


Water & Wood

by aghamora



Category: Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sayuri does not seduce the Minister on the island and, upon returning home, takes Nobu as her danna. An alternate ending to the novel, in which love grows slowly but its roots grow deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is already completed, and I plan on publishing it in seven parts that are fairly similar in length to the chapters of the actual novel. This clocks in at about 40k words, and I’ll be updating fairly frequently until all chapters have been posted. I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!  
> Memoirs of a Geisha and its characters are the intellectual property of Arthur Golden. I own nothing.

I knelt in the garden of the Ichiriki Teahouse, sipping sake and doing my best to hide the fact that my hands were trembling.

This was a ceremony I had experienced what seemed to be a dozen times before – first with Mameha, then the Doctor, and finally with the General when he became my _danna_ – yet this time it felt so different that it seemed to me as if I were going through the motions for the very first time. The sake burned my throat as I drank, but when my eyes flicked across the table and came upon Nobu, I had a sudden desire to find an entire bottle of it and gulp it down until I could no longer see straight.

He was watching me, and the intensity of his stare made a shiver run up my back. In the dim candlelight, it was difficult to see, but even so I could feel his eyes on me, drinking in the sight of my painted face and deep red lips. I felt like a child beneath his gaze, and as I took another sip of sake, I prayed that somehow I could vanish into thin air. As I had long been trained to do, however, I gave no outward sign of my emotions, and kept my eyes demurely lowered. The tremble in my hands had grown stronger, and it felt as if it was buried in my bones now, shaking me to the very core.

Here I was, taking Nobu as my _danna_ , but that somehow was not the worst part of it all. The worst part was that I had done nothing to stop it. I had not protested or screamed at Mother or thrown things like Hatsumomo would have; I had obeyed, and for a moment I was almost sickened by my cowardice.

I should have done something. I should have acted while I still could!

Now, it was too late.

Across from me, Nobu looked pleased enough with the arrangement. Before the war, I had been one of the greatest geisha in Gion, and now he would have me for himself. I would be his; I would belong utterly to him, and the thought make me queasy. Thoughts of the Chairman wormed their way into my head as I wet my lips again with sake, but I tossed them out and forced myself to glance up at Nobu instead, to remind myself where my destiny had led me, and where I must follow.

To the man who ran Iwamura Electric, but not the one I wanted.

We finished exchanging cups and, having completed the ceremony, bowed to one another. I hoped no one could see the tremors in my hands, the way my bones shook within me. Auntie and Mother were watching from a distance, and I thought to myself that I had never seen Mother look so happy. In her mind, she already seemed to be counting the money Nobu’s patronage would bring to the okiya, but I was too overwhelmed with fear and sorrow to feel truly angry with her. Auntie stood beside her with pride shining in her eyes, ecstatic that I had procured such a wealthy and successful _danna_.

In that instant, it seemed that everyone here was thrilled with this arrangement but me.

There was to be no further contact between us that night, and for that I was grateful, for I didn’t think I would have been able to handle seeing Nobu face to face so soon. Thankfully, Mother had cancelled my engagements for this special day, and for once, I was able to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Though I had done nothing but sip sake, I was as exhausted as I would have been had I gone to a hundred parties, and I longed for nothing more than the solitude of my room.

I said nothing to Mother or Auntie during the journey back to the okiya, though both women were nearly bubbling over with excitement and chatting away merrily. Inside, I felt a terrible sort of hollowness sink like a fat rock into my stomach, and before I could stop it, a lump formed in my throat that prevented me from speaking even if I’d wanted to. Mr. Bekku was waiting when we arrived to untie my obi, and when he was done, I shuffled numbly into my room and slid the door shutbehind me. I removed my formal black kimono and changed into a loose cotton robe, kneeling at my makeup stand and starting to rub off the paint on my face.

When I glanced up at myself in the mirror with my white face only half removed, I saw someone I didn’t recognize: a coward who had placed her destiny in the hands of Nobu Toshikazu when she had once been so bound and determined to shape it herself. I looked gaunter than I had been even during the war, and my eyes were heavy with sorrow and seemed darker. This was true misery, I knew as I met my reflection’s eyes. Surely, this was what it felt like.

I happened to look down into my jewelry box just then, and the moment I did, my eyes found the comb Nobu had given me what felt like an eternity ago. In a sudden, panicked rage, I picked the thing up and hurled it across the room, unable to stand the sight of it and not caring if it broke in two. If only I could do the same to Nobu! I wanted nothing more than to throw away the _en_ that bound us together, to snip that invisible string and toss it into oblivion. I didn’t even notice I was crying until I glanced up at myself in the mirror again, and when I looked over to see where the comb had landed, I found that it had not at all been damaged by the fall. I almost laughed at the sight.

It was indestructible. I couldn’t get rid of it. I imagined that I could smash it against the wall twenty times and it would remain just as it was. Like Nobu. Like the _en_ that bound us together.

My thoughts flying madly in all directions, I took the Chairman’s handkerchief from where I had hidden it away in my room and clutched it tightly in my hands. Holding it no longer brought the comfort I sought; if anything, it only made me want to be sick. For so long I had prayed for the Chairman to make me his, yet now that I was to be the mistress of his business partner, he would never dare – no, he had far too much honor for that. It could never be, not now, and it was with this in mind that I brought the little piece of fabric over to one of the candles burning in my room and dangled it above the flame.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly hopeless, and as I watched the handkerchief burn, I realized that I had nothing to cling to now; no image of the Chairman’s kisses to hold in my mind, no token of his to keep close to my heart.

I had Nobu, and a future as black and empty as the night around me.

* * *

Iwamura Electric held a large party at the Ichiriki two days later in celebration of their financing from the Mitsubishi Bank, and naturally, I was invited to attend. I hadn’t seen Nobu since the ceremony at the Ichiriki, and I had no doubt he intended to present me with some kind of gift. I tried to make myself feel excitement at the prospect, but all I could think about was how I wanted no gifts from him, and never would.  

In the days beforehand, however, I continued to entertain as usual, though all the joy seemed to have gone out of me. If my customers noticed, they said nothing. I could scarcely make myself laugh or strike up a friendly conversation, so I knelt beside my customers at parties almost in total silence, my eyes lowered and my hands folded.

The night of the party, as I was preparing to leave and taking one last look in the mirror, Mother approached me from behind and folded her arms, puffing her pipe and looking me up and down. I was clad in a kimono of yellow silk patterned with embroidered red phoenixes, and a deep crimson obi licked by a design of orange flames. My kimono was exquisite, but since I no longer painted my face except for special occasions, there would be no way to hide my unhappiness behind my makeup tonight. Mother took note of this quickly.

“Don’t look so miserable! No man wants a geisha crying into his sake, especially not Nobu,” she uttered gruffly.

“Yes, Mother,” I answered.

All at once, Mother turned me towards her and placed her hands on my cheeks, forcing me to meet her eyes.

“Do not displease him. He’s one of the richest men in Osaka! I know he is hard to look at, but you could do a deal worse for a _danna_ these days.”

Rigidly, I nodded. “Nobu-san has been most generous.”

“Pray that he will be more generous!” she laughed her throaty laugh and stuck her pipe back in her mouth. “You can never have too much generosity in this world.”

I knew that generosity was synonymous with money to her, but I decided to say nothing more and instead stepped toward the doorway. After Auntie sparked flint on my back for good luck, I climbed into the waiting rickshaw and arrived at the Ichiriki a few minutes later. A maid showed me to a room on the second floor, and when I stepped inside, I found the room buzzing with energy and laughter like a hive of bees. More than thirty men were seated on cushions around the room with perhaps a dozen geisha at their sides, chatting away merrily and pouring sake. Though I didn’t know why, I felt somewhat out of place, but forced myself to smile and greet the guests and geisha. I spotted Mameha speaking with the Chairman across the table from Nobu, and though I was glad to see her, I very much wished it was me in her place.

Yet I would be expected to sit beside Nobu, and so I did, kneeling next to him and doing my best to smile as I bowed. After having been a geisha for so long, I could lie and put on a façade almost as easily as I breathed, and I acted as if there was nothing that could please me more than laying eyes on him.

“Sayuri! There you are,” he greeted, looking as cheerful as I’d ever seen him. He reached for a sake cup and held it out to me. “Drink with me. We have much to celebrate.”

“Nobu-san is very kind. And in such a good mood tonight! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink so much sake without encouragement.”

I took the cup and drank as soon as he’d filled it, not hesitating at the chance to drown my sorrows. I kept my sips small, but I relished the burn of it in my throat, and in that moment, I understand how Hatsumomo had been drawn to and destroyed by drink.

“The company’s prospects have never looked better. The future is full of possibilities!”

“So Nobu-san’s troubles are all over now?”

He shook his head and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Not yet. As long as this country is occupied we must all be careful. But I don’t want to discuss business with you; I do enough of that all day.”

I tried to think of something to say, and though I was a very apt conversationalist, for some reason I could find nothing. The relationship between Nobu and I felt exactly as it had been before, and at the same time, it felt completely different. Our usual repartee suddenly seemed unsuitable.

Across the table, Mameha seemed to sense my unease and smiled.

“Sayuri looks very beautiful tonight, don’t you think Nobu-san? What a stunning kimono!”

We engaged in typical pleasantries like that for a while, for which I was grateful, as it was easy to keep a smile fixed on my face and bow my head in thanks. In fact, I pretended to be in a good mood for so long that I actually began to believe my own charade, and after a while, I was smiling and laughing along with everyone else.

However, when the man on my other side – an executive of the Mitsubishi Bank – leaned over and spoke to me, my good mood was soiled.

“So you’re the famous Sayuri we’ve all heard so much about. You must be quite something to have made Nobu forget his disdain for geisha! I thought pigs would fly before that happened.” I froze at first, but managed a smile a second later, and the fat, drunk man continued. “He’ll be quite a strange _danna_ , no? Why, you two will be the beauty and the beast!”

Everyone laughed except Nobu, who heard that and scowled, but the man kept talking, undaunted.

“What an adventure in the bedroom that’ll be! But you never know, Sayuri – perhaps he is exceptionallyskilled with one hand!”

Fewer people laughed this time. I was mortified, and nearly as red as a beet. Beside me, Nobu looked just as flushed, though not from embarrassment but from anger. Mameha seemed apprehensive, and I didn’t dare look at the Chairman to see his reaction. The drunk man didn’t seem to have realized what he’d said until Nobu rose to stand with a low _humph_ and stalked off in the direction of the toilet, leaving the guests at the table in silence. Not knowing what else to do and too humiliated to speak, I sprang up after Nobu under the pretense of escorting him, though I wanted nothing more than to sneak off into one of the empty tatami rooms and hide there for the rest of the party.

It wasn’t unusual for conversations in teahouses to turn explicit, and I should have been used to it, but the thought of sleeping with Nobu made me want to cry all over again, just when I’d thought I had resigned myself to the idea of him as my _danna_. Knowing I couldn’t very well sneak off without my presence being missed, I walked quietly behind Nobu as he stormed down the hallway and watched as he stopped in front of the door to the toilet, his jaw clenched and his lips tugged down into a deep frown.

Slowly, I approached Nobu and stood beside him. When he looked up at me, his eyes softened, but his fury did not.

“That fool Miyamoto always drinks too much sake at these parties, goes too far. I swear, the day he remains sober for more than half an hour, I will drop dead of amazement! I would rather have chewed sand than invited him.”

I got the impression that he felt obligated to explain to me why he’d had to invite him; it seemed to be his gruff way of apologizing for the man’s remarks. I gave him a sad little grin that, for the first time tonight, was genuine.

“Nobu-san has no need to worry. I have heard far worse, from many men.”

“Be that as it may,” Nobu growled, “you’ve no need to hear it _here_. I ought to throw him out; he’s insulted me at my own party! Mentioning my arm…”

“He should not have said such a thing.”

“I’ve heard far worse,” he echoed my words, his mood appearing to sour even further.

“Come, now, Nobu-san,” I made myself smile and gestured for him to follow me back to the party. “We shall return to the party, and drink until we've forgotten that man was ever even here. Perhaps we will even play a drinking game! I know there is nothing Nobu-san enjoys more.”

With only a quiet, reluctant grumble, he walked back to the party with me, and we took our places at the table once more, acting as if nothing had happened at all. I saw the Chairman watching me, but I didn’t dare meet his eyes, for if I did, I wasn’t certain I would be able to conceal my misery. For a time Mameha and I shared stories that had the guests in tears laughing, and as the hour grew later, one of the gentlemen from Mitsubishi asked me if I would dance for them.

I agreed, and with Mameha accompanying me on the shamisen, I danced a piece about a girl whose lover has just deserted her, walking amongst the cherry blossom trees in the spring and observing them with sadness as she remembers him. In my state, the sorrow and isolation she felt were easy for me to convey, and as I danced, I imagined myself in the girl’s shoes – except instead of my departed lover, I was mourning the Chairman. I ended the dance with my folding fans covering my face, tears welling up in my eyes, and when I heard the guests begin to clap, I closed the fans and bowed to them.

When I looked up, my eyes found Nobu almost of their own accord, as though they had known exactly where to look, and on his face, he had an expression I had never seen before. It was an almost childlike kind of astonishment, as if he were a young boy seeing falling snow for the first time, and there was reverence in it as well, his gaze worshipping me in silence. It filled me with guilt to know that I had been imagining another man all throughout the dance that had fascinated him so, and I looked away quickly, smiling at the crowd as the applause swelled and bowing again.

The party only lasted a quarter of an hour longer, and just as I was about to depart, Nobu stopped me and told me he had something for me. I nodded and followed him into an empty room upstairs, where he'd had one of the maids bring a large package and place it on the table.

It was common for a geisha’s new _danna_ to give her some kind of expensive present, I knew. The Baron had given Mameha a kimono, and when I saw how big the gift box was, I realized Nobu had done the same for me.

“Nobu-san, you shouldn’t have.” I gave him a smile as I knelt on the floor to open it.

Nobu knelt beside me. “Don’t tell me I shouldn’t have. Every other geisha in Gion would tell me I should have, and that I should have bought them a diamond as big as my fist to go along with it.”

I laughed, reaching over to untie the ribbon around the box, and when I opened it and revealed its contents, I nearly gasped.

I had never seen a kimono like it.

It was made of ash-grey silk, decorated with fish of golden thread which ducked in and out of shining waves. The gleaming arms of squid extended out onto the sleeves, and when I picked it up, it caught the moonlight in a way that made my breath hitch in my throat. The obi was a dark shade of blue damask, patterned with gold seashells, and as I examined it in stunned silence, Nobu’s voice faded back into my conscious.

“I told Arashino to make a kimono to match your eyes.” He paused, then added, “And I told him that if it wasn’t the finest one you’d ever seen, I’d take it back and refuse to pay him a single sen.”

“Nobu-san, surely you didn’t say-“

“You know perfectly well I did.”

I looked back to the kimono. As I took in the sight of it again and felt the soft silk beneath my fingertips, however, I felt my eyes begin to water once more, for I knew that this gift – or any gift, no matter how beautiful – could never make up for what Nobu’s patronage had taken from me. After I hadn’t spoken for a minute, Nobu glanced sideways at me and noticed the faint redness around my eyes.

“Sometimes I think I will never understand women,” he remarked. “I give you a present, and the next moment you’re crying.”

“No,” I breathed, managing to stop up my sorrow. “It’s only that…I’ve never seen a kimono so beautiful.”

That was not completely a lie, but it was not the truth, either. However, Nobu did not notice, and he grinned, pleased with my reaction.

“Good.” He got to his feet, and I followed suit. Before turning to leave, however, he told me, “I’m having a party at my estate in two weeks. Wear it then.”

I must’ve looked surprised, because Nobu explained, “I don’t like hosting parties. But strengthening the connection between Mitsubishi and Iwamura Electric will only serve us well in the long run. Even I can manage to be hospitable if the future of my company depends on it, Sayuri.”

After escorting him to the door and helping him into his shoes, he bid me good night and walked off into the darkness, leaving me standing in the doorway of the teahouse with a feeling of numbness settling over me.

* * *

As I always did a few times a week, I had tea with Mameha the next afternoon. We knelt at her table in her little apartment, sipping tea and talking of trivial things, but after a while, she noticed the sadness in my eyes.

She set down her tea cup and looked at me closely. “What is it, Sayuri?”

“What do you mean, Mameha-san?”

“You’ve looked so terribly sad these last few days. I’ve never seen someone look so miserable.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I have known you for years,” she told me. “And you never were good at hiding your true feelings.”

I paused, knowing very well I couldn’t tell her what really troubled me. So, I settled on telling her something else: something not quite as important as my sorrow for the Chairman, but that had been on my mind almost just as often since Iwamura Electric’s party the night before.

“Nobu-san is having a party at his estate in a few weeks. I’m afraid he will want…”

“You’re afraid his eel will want to visit your cave?” Mameha asked, knowing what I meant in an instant.

I blushed. “I'm not a child any more, Mameha-san. Let us call it what it is.”

“Very well,” she nodded. “You’re afraid he will want to be intimate with you.”

“I have had a _danna_ before, but…I have known Nobu for so long that it-“

“You mustn’t refuse him,” she reminded me.

“I know,” I nodded gravely. “I wouldn’t dare. He saved me during the war. He has always been generous and kind, but…”

But I did not care for him, at least not in the way he wanted.

“We geisha have no choice,” Mameha took a sip of her tea. “Close your eyes, if it helps. Lie back and let him do as he pleases, and when it is done, push it from your mind.” She stopped to think for a moment, and took another sip. “Nobu can be a harsh man, and he has a temper, but inside I believe he is kind, and though he will never tell you himself, he adores you. Perhaps one day you may come to care for him in return.”

I had genuine affection for Nobu; that much was true. He was gruff, but in my presence he was markedly less harsh, and he was kind to me far more often than I imagined he was kind to anyone else. He had been my good friend for years, but if ever a feeling of fondness arose within me, it was always tainted with the tiniest hint of pity that kept me from feeling anything more than mere friendship towards him, for love born from pity was not love.

I owed Nobu more than I could ever repay, but I couldn't give him my heart, and did not know if I would ever be able to.

“Perhaps,” I answered her quietly, lowering my eyes to my tea and feeling the hot steam as it rose into my face. Mameha flattened her lips into a grim line.

“It is not for geisha to love. It is sad, perhaps, but it’s the truth, and I have reconciled myself to that. One day, you will as well.”

* * *

Before I knew it, two weeks had passed, and the car that was to drive me to Nobu’s estate on the outskirts of Kyoto arrived outside the okiya early in the afternoon. Though I tried not to think about it, I knew that when a geisha’s _danna_ calls her to his estate, he is seeking more than entertainment from her. Therefore, it was more than likely that I would be staying overnight, and so I packed another kimono to take with me as well as a few other essentials in an overnight bag. For the party, I dressed myself in the kimono Nobu had given me, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw the true beauty of it for the first time; it looked even more stunning than it had looked folded up in its box. The color made my grey eyes sparkle like diamonds, and as I stared at myself, I could scarcely believe the sight before me.

Mother, however, came up behind me and ordered me to hurry along, and so I did, handing the driver my belongings and settling into the back seat. For a while I amused myself by looking out the window as we drove, but in time, my thoughts grew darker, and the Chairman slipped into my mind unbidden. After longing for him for so many years, I was weary of the pain in my chest when I pictured him in my mind’s eye, and so I tried to think instead of Nobu, placing him into every fantasy I’d had of the Chairman. But it felt all wrong, and eventually I resolved to give up thought altogether.

I drifted off to sleep after a while, and shortly afterward, I was awakened by the sound of the driver stopping the car and stepping out to open the door for me.

At once, I knew we had arrived.

I stepped out and took in the sight of Nobu’s home. It was not quite as grand as the Baron’s had been in Hakone, but it was still large and spacious with a sizable garden and pond out front. Somehow, I knew that the garden, though well-maintained and brimming with flowers, was rarely used, for Nobu cared little for the beauty of nature and would think it frivolous to be out walking when he could be working.

The driver escorted me into the entryway near a flight of stairs to the second story and told one of the maids to alert Nobu of my arrival. As I waited, I look a look around, finding the reception room furnished in the modern style of decorating with gleaming wood floors and tall windows. Hardly a minute later, Nobu appeared at the top of the stairs, clad in his business suit as he always was, and as he took in the sight of me in the kimono, he looked transfixed, his mouth hanging slightly agape. He descended the stairs in this manner, and for a moment I thought he would fall, as his eyes never left me once to glance down at where he was walking.

Once he reached the bottom, I bowed to him and smiled. “I am happy to see Nobu-san looking so relaxed.”

He made a sort of noise that sounded like a half-laugh, half-scoff.

“My name and ‘relaxed’ should never be put into the same sentence.” He grew serious again, and a look of contemplation crossed his face. “You look beautiful in that kimono. More beautiful than you have ever looked before. I will…” he drifted off for a moment. “I will tell Arashino it was well done.”

Inside my chest, I felt my old fondness for him swell. All at once, I realized that his status as my _danna_ had, in truth, changed little between us. He was still Nobu, and I was still Sayuri; he was still the man who had been my friend for more than a decade, the man who had saved me during the war, the man who spoke gruffly to the rest of the world but gently to me.

I looked around the inside of his home, and upon finding it empty, turned to him with a look of confusion.

“None of Nobu-san’s guests have arrived yet?”

He shook his head and took a step over to the window, peering out of it as he spoke.

“The party isn’t for another hour. I wanted a moment of peace alone with you, before I’m forced to be pleasant.”

Amused, I walked over to the window and stood beside him.

“Nobu-san! Are you suggesting you will not be pleasant to me?”

“Nonsense. You are the most pleasant thing in my life. I’ve only to look at you and it calms me.”

Moved by the kindness of his words, I glanced out the window at his side, and for a minute, a peaceful silence settled over us.

“I know something else that might calm Nobu-san,” I told him. “I saw how beautiful your garden was when I arrived. I had hoped to take a walk in it. Would Nobu-san care to accompany me?”

He agreed, and together, we stepped outside into the warm spring breeze. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom and scattered their petals over us as we walked, making it appear almost as if it were snowing.

“Does Nobu-san walk in his garden often?” I asked as we strolled along a cobblestone path through the center of the garden. Patches of lilies and chrysanthemums grew all around us, like a splotches of color on a painter’s pallet, with bees buzzing to and fro around them.

Nobu, who had been mostly silent during our walk, shook his head. “I have no time to saunter along staring at flowers. I am a busy man, Sayuri.”

I noticed a carnation growing nearby and plucked it from the ground, holding it up for Nobu to see.

“But they are so beautiful. Perhaps Nobu-san should take more time to appreciate the smaller things in life.”

He stopped walking and looked at me for a while, as if finding the right words to say.

“There isn’t a flower in this garden half as beautiful as you,” he finally told me.

Though he had certainly called me beautiful before, this time, with his eyes locked so intensely on mine, I felt the true weight of his sincerity, and for a minute I could do nothing but stare back at him. The heaviness of his words hung in the air between us, and I felt both happy and incredibly guilty when I realized how much he meant them.

“Nobu-san, you flatter me,” I grinned after I came to my senses and resumed our walk.

“It isn’t flattery. It’s the truth.” He paused and glanced up briefly at the cherry blossoms. “I waited more than a decade for you, while you wasted the prime of your life with another man. Now that I have you, I don't intend to lose you.”

We walked for a while longer, and went inside just as the guests were beginning to arrive. The Chairman was not among them, and though I wondered where he was, I didn’t dare ask Nobu about it. I charmed the gentlemen from Mitsubishi as best I could, and as the hour drew later, more than a dozen were quite enamored with me. Still, Nobu always hovered close by, ensuring none of them made comments like the drunk man had at the Ichiriki, or crossed the closely guarded line he had established when it came to my customers’ behavior toward me. Thankfully, the party was relatively uneventful, and though I was not enjoying myself much, it was not unbearable.   

Late in the evening, as the guests were beginning to bid their farewells and depart, I noticed Nobu disappear into another room. Finally, as the very last people took their leave of the party, one of Nobu’s young maids approached me. She looked so intimidated that she was nearly trembling, like I had been as a child whenever Hatsumomo was around, and so I smiled to put her at ease, but she didn’t return the gesture.

I frowned, sensing something was amiss. “What is it?”

The maid hesitated, then leaned over and whispered the words that made my skin turn to stone.

“Ma’am, President Nobu would like to see you, upstairs.”


	2. Chapter 2

With a heavy heart, I followed Nobu’s maid up the stairs and down a long hallway, to a lavishly decorated bedroom with tapestries adorning the walls and a picturesque view of the garden below. A dresser was waiting there to untie my obi and ready me for the rest of the night. However, I could see nothing but the futon in the center of the room, which had been made up with crisp white sheets in preparation for this night. I gulped at the sight, and my stomach filled with dread, but I did not resist when the dresser reached behind me and untied my obi, removing my kimono and changing me into a simple crimson one, with a loosely tied obi knot that would require almost no effort to undo. With that, the dresser and the maid left, but not before informing me that Nobu would join me shortly.

Once they were gone, I took another look around the room as my palms began to sweat, and found a full length mirror in one of the corners. I walked over to it and stared at my reflection, adjusting the sleeves of my kimono and struggling to calm myself. I could not refuse Nobu this, I knew. As my _danna_ , he had been most generous, and therefore, there were generosities he was owed in return.

I had endured sleeping with the Doctor and the General, but being in their beds had been nothing more than a brief, unpleasant experience. With Nobu, it would be different. I had known him for years, since I was an apprentice, and already I could sense the transition from being his friend to being his mistress would be a difficult one. And being in his bed would not be merely an unpleasant experience. Being in his bed would be the death of the hope that I had held in my heart for years.

I heard the door slide open, and when I turned, I found Nobu standing there, still dressed in his suit from the party. With contemplative look on his face, he shut the door behind him and stepped inside the room, stopping once he’d reached the center. Even in the dim light of the room, I could see the hunger in his eyes. It was the hunger of a man only seconds from claiming his prize, the satisfaction of a predator that had been chasing its prey for years and was about to feast.

“Sayuri,” he spoke my name, his voice raspy. I began to feel as if the walls were closing in on me.

Not knowing what else to do, I turned back toward the mirror, swallowing as I listened to him approach and come to stand behind me. My forehead had broken out into a cold sweat, but I made no move to resist when I felt him place his hand on my waist and lower his lips to the bare nape of my neck.

“I have waited so long for this,” he murmured the words across my skin. “But it was worth every second.”

My eyes welled up with tears, but in the dim light, he could not see. Slowly, he reached his hand up to untie my robe and watched in silence as the fabric crumpled around my shoulders and fell to the ground. I was left in only my thin kimono undershirt and _koshimaki_ , and within seconds, he had rid me of them too, leaving me naked with him still fully clothed behind me. It reminded me so much of the time the Baron had undressed me in front of his mirror that I had to swallow the bile threatening to rise in my throat. Again, he began to kiss the nape of my neck, but in time his lips journeyed to the bare, ivory-colored skin of my shoulder and collarbone, and I shuddered. No other man I had been with had waited so long to have me; they had laid me down as quickly as they could manage. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Nobu sought to prolong this, and silently, I prayed for him to hurry and be done with it.

Gently, he reached his hand around me and cupped one of my breasts, holding onto me firmly, as if he did not ever intend to let go. With every touch he stole, I felt myself floating farther and farther away from the Chairman, and when those familiar thoughts of longing entered my mind, the pain in my chest was so great that I almost couldn't breathe. Each of his kisses felt like a drop of water extinguishing the fire of hope inside me, until there was nothing left in my heart but a bed of cold, wet ash.

“You are the most beautiful creature on the face of this earth,” he murmured.

I knew how much he meant it, yet I could not find it in myself to be touched by his words. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to break away, to tear his hand from my breast and run from the room as fast as I could, but I remained as still and unmoving as a porcelain doll. I had no other choice.

He tore his mouth from my skin and took a long look at my naked body in the mirror. For a moment I worried that he had seen the terror in my eyes, but when he moved his mouth close to my ear and told me to lie down, I knew that he hadn’t. I was both relieved and dismayed, yet could do nothing except acquiesce, and so I did, walking over to the futon and lying down on it obediently.

I could hear nothing but the beating of my heart inside me as I watched Nobu remove his jacket and toss it aside. He took a step towards the bed, and I had never felt more exposed that I did in that instant, naked on Nobu’s futon with no barriers of clothing to guard me from him and his eyes taking in every inch of my skin. As he lowered himself on top of me, however, he only began kissing my neck again, and so, with Nobu occupied, I was finally able to close my eyes and try to escape into my thoughts. I prayed to let this all be a nightmare, to let it be the Chairman kissing me instead – but reality hung over me like a raincloud that refused to disperse, and I could not escape it.

As these thoughts came to mind, I couldn’t hold back my tears, and I felt them trickle silently down my cheeks. Crying was the worst thing I could do, and I knew that very well. No man wants his mistress weeping in his bed, and if Mother could see me now, she would beat me senseless for being such a fool.

As the minutes dragged on, I wanted to scream at Nobu to take me and be done with it, but he would not. He was kissing me as if I were as sweet as honey and he could never get his fill, as if he had been wandering in the desert for weeks and I was his first taste of water. His lips adored me, worshipped my body without a word, and still, I could feel nothing but misery. I couldn’t contain my tears, though I tried desperately. It seemed as though a dam had burst inside me, behind which all my sorrow had been kept, and now, there was nothing to stop it from flowing out.

Suddenly, as if sensing something was amiss, Nobu looked up at me, and when he noticed the grimace on my face – the way my eyes were squeezed shut, the way my cheeks were shiny with tears – he stopped and pulled away.

“You don't want this,” he observed, breathing heavily. In shock, I opened my eyes just in time to see him scowl and swing his legs over the side of the futon, turning away from me.

Numbly, I sat up, my cheeks dampened with tears and my shoulders trembling. I didn’t dare reach out to him or speak, and after a lengthy moment of silence with nothing to be heard but the sound of our breathing, he growled.

“Very well. I won’t force you.”

I was breathing so hard that I felt as if I would faint at any minute, but even as relief flooded my veins, it mixed with an even more potent feeling of guilt. I could sense how dejected Nobu felt, and I beckoned myself to say something to placate him. I could find no words, however, and eventually, Nobu spoke instead, his words harsh and biting.

“It is because of these scars, isn’t it? My hideous stump of an arm?” he spoke through clenched teeth, though I could hear the sorrow in his voice. “It disgusts you.”

As I listened to him speak, I felt fresh tears come to my eyes. My voice wobbled when I tried to speak. “Nobu-san-“

“You don’t want half a man in your bed. It is all you can see, this repulsive face. It is all the world sees.” he sneered. “Even you, Sayuri, a master of deceit! Even you can’t hide your horror.”

I wanted to tell him that his appearance was not the true cause of my misery at all, but the words were stuck in my throat, and even if I spoke them, I doubted he would believe me. I could do nothing but hug my arms to my body and listen to him hurl his words at me, his voice raw and filled with anger.

“I will not force you to give yourself to me, ‘Mr. Lizard.’ I won’t have you be sickened by my touch.”

Desperate to console him, I reached over to place my hand on Nobu’s shoulder, but he shook me off violently and got to his feet, stalking across the room and reaching down to put on his discarded jacket. Once he had, he simply stood there with his back turned to me, breathing heavily.

On trembling legs, I rose to stand and hurriedly put on my robe to cover my nakedness. Once I had, I approached him and stopped a few feet away, not knowing what to say. Perhaps there was nothing I could say at all; Nobu looked so furious that he was like a volcano poised to erupt at even the tiniest disturbance. I had never seen him so livid, but at the same time, I realized that I had never seen him so ashamed of his scarred body, either.

Finally, from a place deep inside myself, I found the courage to speak. “You do not disgust me, Nobu-san.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I am not lying!” I cried, forgetting for a moment who he was, and who I was, and that most geisha would never have dared to speak to their _danna_ so boldly.

Again, I placed my hand on his shoulder, and again, he shook me off. This time, however, I was not content to let him push me away, and with a strength I didn't know I possessed, I grabbed ahold of his shoulder and forced him to turn toward me.

Half-stunned and still fuming, Nobu did nothing but look at me, and I repeated, “I am not lying.”

His nostrils were flared in anger, his eyes burning with rage. He looked like a bull about to charge, but he did not move away.

“Has it always disgusted you to look at me?” Nobu spat. “Have you always thought me a monster?”

“No!” I shook my head. “I have never-“

“You geisha!” he chewed the word ‘geisha’ as if it tasted foul to him. “You lie as easily as you breathe.”

“I'm not lying to you, Nobu-san. Please, believe me.”

He looked entirely unconvinced, and the expression on his face seemed to beckon me to prove it to him, for perhaps my words could lie easily, but my actions could not. All at once, I knew what I must do, and when I did, my stomach felt somehow as if it were sinking and floating at the same time inside me.

As I moved closer to Nobu, my eyes wide, I felt as if I were not in control of my own body; I was a puppet whose strings were pulled by the hand of destiny, perhaps. My heart was pounding, and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears. I didn’t know what I was doing, or why I was doing it. Somehow, I knew only that I must.

And then, I did it – I placed both my hands on his cheeks, raised my face to his, and dared to press a gentle kiss to Nobu’s scarred cheek.

I had never been so close to another person, nor had I ever experienced a kiss that felt so tender and intimate. His scars were rough beneath the softness of my lips; I had never seen them up close before, yet somehow, it was as if I didn’t even notice the wounds. When I drew back and met his eyes, my breath hitched in my throat, and I feared for a moment that he would growl and shove me aside. However, Nobu did not move, and he had a look of astonishment on his face that told me at once that no one had ever dared to get so close to him before. I felt a shift in the air between us, and all the anger seemed to flood out of him. As I looked at Nobu, I realized that my kiss had utterly dismantled him. I had thrown everything he’d ever believed about his appearance into question, and in that instant, he was like a man struggling to find his footing after being pushed to the ground.

“I don't see a monster when I look at you, Nobu-san,” I breathed, the words leaving my mouth in one long exhalation. “I see only a man.”

We looked at one another in silence for a moment longer, both of us too surprised to move, and then, Nobu, looking more disheveled than I’d ever seen him, broke away and took a step backwards toward the door. He hesitated, appearing as though he didn’t know what to say, but finally turned to look back at me and nodded.

“Good night, Sayuri.”

I bowed to him in return, though I was shaking so badly that it was hardly anything but a gentle nod of my head.

“Sleep well, Nobu-san.”

Both of us knew that after what had happened he would not be sleeping well tonight, and neither would I. Perhaps I did not realize it then, but that night marked the first true shift in the relationship between Nobu and me, when for so many years it had remained unchanged.

I couldn’t say just how I knew, but the world itself had tilted somehow, and the _en_ that bound the two of us suddenly felt stronger than ever before.

* * *

Early the next morning, a car arrived to take me back to Gion.

I didn’t think I would see Nobu before I left, but just as the driver was loading my belongings, he appeared from inside the house and approached me, dressed as if he were getting ready to travel somewhere himself.

I greeted him with a bow. “Nobu-san looks well rested this morning.”

I couldn’t pretend that last night was not on my mind, and though it appeared to be on his as well, he made no mention of it.

“I came to see you off,” he said. “I’m leaving for Osaka in a few hours. I won’t be back for another week, maybe longer.”

“Then I will wish Nobu-san luck, and await his return.”

He looked at me for a long moment with contemplation, and then, without warning, he moved towards me, until he was so close that I could feel the warmth of his body against mine. Confused, I looked up at him, but before I could ask what he was doing, he grabbed my arm, pulled me into him, and kissed me gently on the lips. Shockingly enough, my first reaction was not revulsion or sorrow, though before last night perhaps it would have been. I was more surprised than anything, until I realized that I had never been kissed passionately like this, by any man. All the men I'd known had only ever bothered with the occasional awkward bumping of their lips against mine, and even then it was dull, half-hearted. This felt different, almost as if Nobu was pouring the deepest, most secret parts of himself into me, even if my lips barely moved at all beneath his. By the time we broke apart, I was overwhelmed by a multitude of feelings – shock, fascination, sorrow, distress – and far too confused to know what I ought to feel.

“I will think of you, while I’m in Osaka,” he said after a moment.

“And I…” I paused. “I will think of danna-samaas well.”

It was the first time I’d ever called him that, and Nobu looked surprised, as he was as unaccustomed to being addressed by danna-samaas I was addressing him by it. I had never known him as anything other than Nobu-san, and though I did not yet know what to make of this change between us, he seemed very pleased to hear me address him thus.

After bidding him farewell, I stepped into the car, and as the driver began to drive away, I glanced out the back window, only to find Nobu still standing by the side of the road, looking back at me. Our eyes met, and though I did not know why, I didn’t look away from him until the driver turned the corner, and he was out of sight.

I spent the rest of the drive back to the Gion thinking of Nobu with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I had never seen him more undone than he had been the night before, and in a way, it had very much changed my perception of him. I felt fonder of him than I had before, though my yearning for the Chairman remained buried deep down in my bones. It had almost become a habit for me to long for the Chairman, I realized, and suddenly, I wondered what it would be like if it was a habit no longer, for perhaps I was only unhappy with Nobu as my _danna_ because I had made up my mind to be so. Perhaps I hadn’t given Nobu a proper chance, and simply closed myself off to any and all possibilities of happiness with him.

But how could I not have, when I had for so many years held fast to my love for the Chairman? I couldn't make myself love Nobu, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wanted to – and I _did_ want to, in all honesty. If I could forget the Chairman and grow to care for Nobu instead, I imagined that I would be much happier. I wouldn’t lie awake in the night, unable to sleep for thinking of a man I would never have. I wouldn't spend every second I had with Nobu wishing he were someone else, when Nobu was indeed a great man in his own right.

Out of nowhere, I recalled something Mameha had told me before the war, when Nobu had first proposed himself as my _danna_.

_“Nobu will certainly be a challenge for you. He knows his own mind much too well. I won’t be surprised if he expects more of you than the Baron has expected of me.”_

I knew already that Nobu was a demanding man, as well as one who did not tolerate disappointment or failure. I had told him once that I feared I would never be able to live by his standards for judging me, and even now, those words held truth for me. I knew as well that he would require more attention than most patrons did, for he was not married. If this was because of his physical appearance or a general disdain for women, I didn’t know, but there was not a doubt in my mind he would expect more of me emotionally than the Baron had expected of Mameha.

But, I thought with a familiar sense of emptiness filling me, if he expected me to truly love him as a man, then I supposed he would have to suffer disappointment.  

I was entirely overwhelmed by it all, and I spent the rest of the car ride in a sort of hazy, confused state, caught between my affection for the Chairman and a muddle of emotions for Nobu that I feared I would never be able to sort through.

* * *

While Nobu was away, I continued to entertain, attend the little school, and dance as usual, endeavoring to cast the Chairman from my thoughts entirely. For some time, I managed to convince myself that my plan was working, but one evening outside the Mizuki Teahouse, as I was walking from one engagement to another, I found that I was sorely mistaken.

I was walking down the street alone, enjoying the scent of the cool crisp air, when, in the distance, I noticed a man stepping out of a car into the street. Initially, I thought little of it, until I drew closer and got a better look at him.

The moment I saw it was the Chairman, I felt as if a bolt of electricity had shot through me.

He stopped the moment he noticed me, and, almost dizzy with delight, I approached him and bowed.

“Chairman,” I managed to put on a façade of relative composure, though my heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if it would leap out of my chest. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”

“Ah, Sayuri,” he gave me a little smile that left me mesmerized. “You look lovelier every time I see you.”

“The Chairman is too kind,” I smiled. A moment of silence passed, and then, I asked him something that was rather forward of me. “Perhaps the Chairman would care to take a walk with me? I haven’t seen him for a long time, and it is a beautiful night.”

I would have never dared to ask something like this of him before, but now, I was so desperate to see him that I would do nearly anything for a few precious minutes in his presence. Surprise crossed his features for a moment, but he nodded nonetheless.

“There is nothing like the company of an old friend to start the night off on the right note, I suppose.”

As I listened to him speak, I was filled with such great joy and sorrow that I longed to cry and laugh out loud all at once. We began a slow stroll down the street, which was damp from a recent rain. The yellow lights from nearby lanterns reflected off of the puddles, making them appear almost as if they were made of molten gold.

“I saw Nobu-san a few days ago, in Osaka,” the Chairman said after a moment.

The moment he mentioned Nobu, my happiness at being with him wilted, and the reality that Nobu’s status as my _danna_ had forever closed me off from him hit me, as if I’d been slapped in the face with it.

“I must say, I've never seen him so happy. He didn’t snap at a single person while I was with him, and even his secretary seemed to be in much better spirits. Nobu-san usually makes the poor woman cry at least once a week, but I suppose she has you to thank for his good mood. As do we all.”

I swallowed and tried to hide my disappointment, for I would rather speak to the Chairman about anything else in the world than this. I did nothing but grin half-heartedly. “I am glad to hear Nobu-san is doing well.”

“His life has not been easy, Sayuri. He was scorned by love long ago. I didn't believe he could ever come to care for anyone again, in the way he cares for you,” the Chairman told me.

I looked over at him with confusion. “Scorned by love?”

The Chairman stopped to think, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't tell me what he meant. Finally, he explained, “Many years ago, before he went off to fight, Nobu was engaged to be married. He never told me her name, but he loved her more than anything, and believed she loved him in return. But after he was injured…” he drifted off and frowned. “A month or so after he was injured, she came to visit him in the hospital. I don’t suppose anyone had told her how severe his injuries were, because she was so horrified by them that she called off their engagement right then and there, while he was still lying in his hospital bed.”

I was crestfallen, and my heart ached for Nobu. Grimly, he continued, “She told him she could never marry a man with half an arm and half a face. It was a very cruel thing to say, and I’m sure to this day he’s never forgotten it. That is why he has never married; he didn’t believe that any woman could ever see past his appearance.” Again, the Chairman paused. “I am happy he has found someone again. Happier than I can ever say. He is a good man, Sayuri; the best one I know. And I'm sure…”

For a while, the Chairman didn't say anything, and I myself was far too overwhelmed by his story to speak at all. Finally, he looked at me and smiled, again with a hint of sorrow pooling in his eyes, “I am sure he will be good to you.”

He looked at me for a long while, appearing as though he was deeply saddened by something, but I did not trust my voice to be steady enough to ask what troubled him so. It took me some time to find my voice again, and when I did, I realized suddenly how long I had kept the Chairman, and how horribly late I was to my next engagement.

“The Chairman must forgive me,” I said softly. The atmosphere felt thick between us, and it pained me to realize that we had spoken of nothing but Nobu during our walk. “I lost track of the time. I must be on my way to my next engagement.”

He nodded, and with that same faint melancholy, said, “Farewell then, Sayuri.”

“Good night, Chairman.”

With that, he departed, disappearing inside a nearby teahouse and sliding the door shut behind him. I watched him go in silence from the street, feeling very much as if I were stranded on an island by myself in the middle of the sea, and my last hope of salvation had just sailed away.

* * *

Nobu was held up in Osaka for longer than expected, and I didn't see him for more than two weeks. I began to think that perhaps my fears of him demanding my company too often were unfounded, for, although he was not a married man, he was very nearly married to his company. Still, I was grateful for his absence, for it gave me time to think. Whenever I considered the idea of trying to forget the Chairman, however, my stubborn heart refused to consider it, and my chest ached so badly with longing that for one terrifying moment I thought that perhaps I would perish of heartbreak right then and there.

A day after Nobu’s return, he requested my company at the Komoriya Teahouse for an informal party held by some contractor or other for Iwamura Electric. I was gladdened by the summons, as I did genuinely enjoy Nobu’s company; and after the night at his estate and hearing the Chairman’s story, I felt as though I understood him much better. I chose a pale green kimono with a pattern of calla lilies, and a yellow obi embroidered with a simple geometric design of diamonds. At the last minute, I located the comb Nobu had given me so very long ago, and on an impulse, I placed it into my waxed, pincushion-like bun, climbing into the waiting rickshaw shortly afterward.

Once I arrived, one of the maids showed me into the party, and I found Nobu sitting with another man, appearing as though he were struggling to exchange pleasantries with him – something he had never been good at. When he noticed me enter, he looked up at me gratefully, as if I’d rescued him, and turned to face me as I bowed.

“Nobu-san,” I greeted as I knelt next to him. “You are looking rather tense tonight! May I pour you some sake?”

He shook his head. “The fool next to me has had so much that I think I’ve gotten drunk just off of the fumes.”

“Perhaps you ought to have some anyway. Nobu-san’s scowl is so deep that one would think he is at a funeral instead of a party.”

“Business in Osaka took far longer than it should’ve, and went nowhere.” He took a look at me, and his eyes softened in the way that they only ever did around me. His scowl began to disappear. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t be unhappy, not when I’ve got you beside me.”

I was about to open my mouth to reply when the man on the other side of me glanced my way, furrowed his brow as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, and leaned in close to me.

“Have I had too much to drink,” the man, who appeared to be about thirty, slurred. “Or has a goddess come down from the heavens to kneel beside me?”

I smiled, turning my attention away from Nobu for a moment. “It must be the first one! But you are very kind to say so.”

Most men who got drunk at teahouses usually had a good idea of what was acceptable behavior and what wasn’t, but this one clearly did not. I didn’t know if it was because he was new to Gion or because he was intoxicated past the point of reason, but hardly a second later, he reached over and jerked my chin upward so that he could look at my eyes.

“I have never seen eyes like yours,” he hiccupped. “It is like looking at the sea, isn’t it? Or at the sky. I could stare at them for hours!”

Beside me, I could sense Nobu’s irritation mounting, and I moved away from the man’s touch with as much politeness as I could manage.

“Now, perhaps I could pour you some more sake instead? Staring at my eyes would bore you eventually, but drinking sake is never dull.”

He shook his head and, with a loud laugh, slung his arm around my shoulders, yanking me suddenly to the side. I had to stop myself from crying out in surprise, as I had never had a man handle me so roughly, but I made no sound and struggled to keep a pleasant expression on my face for Nobu’s sake.

“I can get sake anywhere in Japan! A beauty like you? I won’t find one anywhere else in the world!” he laughed again as if he’d made a terribly clever joke.

When I managed to turn my head enough to look at Nobu beside me, I could nearly see the waves of fury radiating off of him. Already he had been in a foul mood tonight, and the drunken man’s behavior towards me had only worsened it. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched tightly, and I thought that I could see a vein pulsing unnaturally in his forehead.

Then, without warning, I heard Nobu speak the words that made me freeze. “Get your hands off of her.”

At once, the man released me, and I looked over at Nobu with trepidation, as I could feel the atmosphere shift dangerously. The drunk man managed to stumble to his feet and wobbled over to Nobu, who had shot to his feet as well with his fist clenched.

“Who do you think you are?” he slurred.

“The president of Iwamura Electric. And a much greater man than you’ll ever be,” Nobu deadpanned.

People around us were beginning to take notice, and stopped what they were doing to watch.

With a gulp, I got to my feet and turned to Nobu, forcing a smile for him. “Nobu-san, it is nothing. Calm yourself, please.”

“What’re you going to do, hit me?” the man cackled behind me. “I may be drunk, but at least I’ve got both my arms!”

Certainly there was nothing Nobu hated more than to be mocked for his missing arm, and my eyes widened anxiously. That proved to be the last straw for Nobu, and with a low growl, he pushed past me and lunged towards the man. I gave a cry of distress as I watched the brawl erupt, with Nobu throwing the first punch but missing horribly and stumbling sideways. The other man didn’t fare much better, however, but did land a hit and knock Nobu backwards somewhat. I could do nothing but watch with my hands clasped over my mouth in horror. It quickly became apparent that Nobu was not faring well at all, but, stubborn as he was, he refused to back down.

The fight only ended when the mistress of the teahouse ran into the room and forced herself in between the two men. I noticed that Nobu appeared to be ready to pounce on the man again, and so I stood in front of him with my hands pressed to his chest to stop him from moving.

“No more, Nobu-san. It is done,” I told him. When I noticed that he was bleeding from a shallow cut on his forehead, I frowned. “You’re hurt. Here, come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Breathing heavily, he followed me reluctantly into one of the empty tatami rooms and waited as I asked the maid to bring me a towel and alcohol to clean the cut on his head. I sat him down and knelt beside him, and as we waited for the maid to arrive with the supplies, we remained there in tense silence, with Nobu glowering at me and grinding his teeth. Once she’d brought them, I wet the little cloth with alcohol and pressed it to the bloody cut on his forehead. Nobu hissed in pain, but I did not pull away, and after a moment, his anger seemed to dissipate.

“I must say, I am surprised,” I remarked quietly as I dabbed at the cut. “I had never known Nobu-san to be one to resolve his problems with violence.”

He released a short, irritated breath. “I am not. But I couldn’t sit idly by and watch him grab at you like an animal. I will fight for your honor, Sayuri.”

I chuckled. “Nobu-san has certainly proven that to me tonight.”

“I should’ve known better,” Nobu clenched his jaw and relaxed the tension in his shoulders. “That fool could barely stand, but I’m useless in a fight with one arm. I don’t think I managed to hit him even once. What a sight that must have been: a drunk and a one-armed man fighting in the middle of a teahouse!” He sighed, growing somber all at once. “I made a fool of myself, didn't I?”

I didn't know quite how to answer that, and so I said nothing, keeping my eyes fixed on his cut.

He took that as confirmation, and scoffed. “Look at me, brawling like an idiot. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” All of a sudden, he took notice of the comb in my hair. “You’re wearing the comb I gave you.”

“I was waiting for Nobu-san to notice,” I smiled. “But I’m afraid he was too busy throwing punches to look at me.”

Having finished cleaning his wound, I drew the cloth away and set it aside, with Nobu watching me closely all the while. I thought that he was going to say something, but all he did was glance down at his watch and get to his feet.

“It is late,” he said. “And all this fighting’s made me tired. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good company tonight, Sayuri.”

“It isn’t your job to be good company, Nobu-san. It is mine.”

“What a terrible job that must be!” he shook his head as I began to escort him to the door. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

Once we reached the door, I stopped and told him, “Truthfully, sometimes I don’t know how I do either, Nobu-san.”

My words were heavy with meaning, and he seemed to notice, as his expression turned grim for a moment. But the look was there and gone almost as quickly as it had come, and he rolled open the door, taking a step out into the darkness.

I began to bow in farewell, but he stopped hardly a second later and looked back at me.

“That comb looks beautiful on you,” he finally remarked. “And you are still as stunning as you were the day I gave it to you.”

Nobu often complimented me out of nowhere, but for some reason, I was particularly caught off guard by it tonight, and it took me a moment to remember to bow in thanks. Nobu nodded in return, and without another word, he turned and was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

I saw very little of Nobu the rest of that summer, for he seemed as if he were almost always away on some trip or other for business. I grew busy as well with a number of dance performances that carried on for the rest of the season, and practiced so much that the pain in my feet kept me awake in the night. It was early autumn when the pace of our lives finally slowed, and we were able to see one another again with some regularity.

In the okiya, life had become a quiet, pleasant routine. Mother was kinder to me than she’d ever been before, for now that I had a _danna_ , I was earning considerably more than I’d ever earned in my life. With Nobu paying for my lessons and the majority of my living expenses, as well as providing me with a generous amount of spending money, Mother paid almost nothing to support me and simply sat back, puffing her pipe and reaping the benefits of Nobu’s patronage. In fact, I do believe she was very nearly in love with the man.

I thought of the Chairman often, but in time, I found Nobu creeping into my thoughts just as frequently. I felt as if I understood him better than I had before, and though I did not long for him in the way I longed for the Chairman, I came to thoroughly enjoy the time I spent with him again. My unhappiness with his status as my _danna_ eased somewhat, though perhaps it was only because I had resigned myself to it. It couldn’t be said that I was happy – for there were still times when my heart ached terribly with yearning for the Chairman – but I was not nearly as miserable as before, and I settled into a sort of restless contentment.

After nearly three weeks without seeing Nobu, I received word that he’d requested my company at an upscale restaurant on the banks of the river for dinner. I dressed myself in a plum-colored kimono he’d sent during his absence from Gion, with a gold obi and a jade comb in my hair. When I arrived, I was escorted outside to a private wooden verandah standing on stilts above the river, lit beautifully with paper lanterns that cast their light out onto the water. There were two cushions situated on either side of a little table, and as I waited for Nobu to arrive, I placed my hands on the wooden railing encircling the verandah and stared out at the river as a cool breeze blew through the air. In the distance, I could faintly hear the hustle and bustle of the teahouses on the other side of the river, but otherwise it was almost completely silent, and I was more at peace than I’d been in a long while.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear the glass door slide open, and it was only when I heard footsteps behind me that I turned and found that Nobu had arrived. After not seeing him for so long, I was glad to lay eyes on him again, and I bowed to him with a smile.

“Sayuri,” he said my name as if he’d never been so relieved to see anyone. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, if I've ever seen one.”

“It has been so long since I’ve had the pleasure of Nobu-san’s company. I was beginning to think he had tired of me.”

He took a seat at the table and made a sound of disbelief. “Tired of you? Impossible. It’s the rest of the world I’m tired of.”

I knelt at the table across from him, and noticed for the first time that Nobu did indeed look very tired, with lines in his face that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him. I had read in the papers that the government was still causing Iwamura Electric a great deal of trouble, and though the company was no longer in danger of being seized, whatever was happening seemed to be weighing heavily on Nobu’s mind.

As we waited for our food, I poured him a beer, and he poured one for me. We drank together, and once we were done, he set down his glass and glanced over at me.

“I should have come to see you more often. I’m sorry that I didn’t,” he exhaled slowly. “Sometimes I wonder why I even leave Gion at all. I’d much rather stay here with you than deal with the endless parade of fools who put on a suit and think they can call themselves businessmen.” 

“But Nobu-san is here now,” I smiled, in an effort to cheer him up. “Let’s not talk about what could have been.”

Our food arrived, and we ate and drank together. Quickly, Nobu’s mood began to improve, and in time, he stopped clenching his jaw and relaxed the tension in his muscles. For a while we spoke of the things that had happened during the time we’d spent apart, and as we did, the weeks in which we hadn’t seen one another suddenly felt as if they had been no time at all.

“These Occupation authorities have been nothing but a thorn in my side since the end of the war, Sayuri,” Nobu told me with a frown. He knew that I knew almost nothing about business, but I listened intently nonetheless, as I could sense he needed to unburden his mind. “They can’t seize the company now, but they seem intent on making things as difficult as they possibly can for us. They keep sending inspectors to our factories, trying to find any violation of their building codes they can fine us for. And do you know the worst part of it all? The Americans they send to do it don’t speak Japanese; they bring translators with them. They can’t even be bothered to learn the language of the country they’re occupying!”

“Last week one of their inspectors came while I was at our factory. I decided to accompany him on his inspection, and be as hospitable as I could – though I’m not sure those dogs know what hospitality is. Hardly two minutes after he starts, he stops, looks at one of the conveyor belts, and tells me it’s got to be one inch wider. One inch! I didn’t say anything at first, but then his translator tells me he says that we’ll have to have them all replaced within the month, or we’ll pay a fine for every single one!”

He stopped to take a drink of his beer and flattened his lip into a grim line. “Well, I wasn’t having any of that; I know idiocy the second I hear it. So I got very close to him and said, ‘If you Americans think I’m going to waste my company’s money adding one inch to our conveyor belts to meet your outlandish building codes, you’re bigger fools than I thought.’ I cursed at him too, and told him on no uncertain terms that he ought to learn to speak my language before telling me how to run my company.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Nobu-san! What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Nobu seemed to think this was the funniest part of it all. “He had no idea what I’d said because the translator decided it would be best not to translate it for him.”

I laughed along with him, and reached across the table to refill his glass. I had been drinking with him as we spoke, though not so much that I was slurring my words or struggling to see straight. Still, the world around me looked rosier, and the air felt warmer. I was enjoying myself much more than I’d anticipated, and Nobu was in the best mood I’d seen him in in weeks, laughing freely as we talked.

“Perhaps Nobu-san should speak more gently to others. He can be very harsh sometimes.”

“I’m only as harsh as I need to be.” I gave him a disbelieving look, prompting him to ask, “What is it?”

“The very first time I ever met you at that sumo match years ago, Nobu-san, you nearly made me cry. I was only an apprentice, and I’d never entertained a man before. When I tried to joke with you, you-“

“I called you a fool? Yes, I remember. Well, that was before I knew you – but sumo is no joking matter.”

I laughed again at his seriousness, and I was about to open my mouth to reply when we heard the glass door slide open next to us. One of the maids stepped out onto the verandah, and Nobu scowled at her the moment she appeared.

“What is it?” he barked. I thought I could almost see the poor woman trembling from a distance, as Nobu was about as kind to strangers as an angry dog is to the hand it bites.

“Sir, you have a call from Tokyo.”

Nobu waved her away. “Tell them I’m busy.”

“I did, but they said it was important. It’s about a Lt. Fujisaki.”

Nobu seemed to recognize the name and got to his feet with a frown, excusing himself and disappearing inside the restaurant. I waited for him at the table for ten minutes, and when he did not return, I got up to go search for him, afraid he had been called away on urgent business. Just as I was stepping back inside and starting to slide the door shut behind me, however, I spotted Nobu stalking down the hallway with a grave look on his face. Surprised, I did nothing but look at him as he brushed past me and stepped back out onto the verandah without so much as a glance in my direction. I stepped outside as well, and found Nobu standing at the railing, his back turned to me as he stared out at the water. I could sense immediately that he’d received bad news, and so I approached him and stood at his side. I noticed that he had a terribly sad look on his face, and his eyes appeared as though they were staring at something a million miles away.

“Nobu-san?” I said his name softly. “What is the matter?”

“That call was from the wife of one of my friends from the war, Fujisaki Ichiro. He died yesterday, in a car accident. After everything we survived, he died in a car accident!” Quickly, he grew solemn again and lowered his eyes. “Do you remember how the Chairman always says he owes me a debt he can never repay?”

At the mention of the Chairman, my throat felt tighter and I gulped, but nodded nonetheless.

“That was the same kind of debt I owed him. He was part of my platoon, when we went to keep the peace near Seoul. He was the one who found me after I was injured, lying in the middle of a field with my arm and face blown off. I can remember it so clearly; I was certain I was dying. Shells were falling all around us. I thought that another one would hit me again and kill me. Probably he would have been smarter to run, but he found me and dragged me back to base. I would not be alive without him. However indebted the Chairman is to me… I’m ten times as indebted to Fujisaki.”

I couldn’t find anything to say, and so I only lowered my eyes and listened.

Nobu gave another humorless laugh. “And now he’s gone. I should be the one who’s dead – not him.”

“I’m so sorry, Nobu-san,” I murmured, not knowing any other way to console him. Nobu was not the kind of man to shed tears, but everything about him – from the way he stood, to the way his mouth moved when he spoke – seemed heavy and grim, and it was clear to me how troubled he was. “He sounds like he was a very brave man.”

“Braver than I was,” Nobu stared straight ahead at the water, listening to the distant laughter on the other side of the river. “I lost an arm and got these scars, and suddenly everyone wanted to call me a hero. I wasn’t a hero.”

“Oh Nobu-san, you mustn’t talk like that,” I told him firmly, though he didn’t seem to be listening.

I could tell that my words had done nothing to comfort him, and so, very slowly, I inched my hand over to where his rested on the railing and placed mine on top of it. It was daring, I knew, and Nobu looked over at me in surprise. I gave him a sad little smile in return, and after a moment, he looked back out onto the river, releasing a long sigh that seemed to me as if it somehow held all his memories from the war within it. They spread out on the water before us, and I watched Nobu gaze upon them with a sort of detachment, as if his mind were a thousand miles away, in another time completely. I felt almost as though he was letting me see the deepest, most private thoughts that he had never shown anyone else, and so I stayed quiet, watching him remember without a word. After a minute, I rested my other hand lightly on his shoulder, but he did not notice, so deeply washed in the sea of his memories was he.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that without saying a word, yet somehow, I felt as if we didn’t need to speak at all, for we could understand each other perfectly in the silence.

* * *

A few days later, I accompanied Nobu to a sumo match at the Osaka Prefectural Gymnasium, an hour away from Kyoto. We traveled together by train, with Nobu burying himself in paperwork almost as soon as we had settled in for the trip. For a while I amused myself by looking out the window, but in time I grew bored and decided to try to get Nobu to talk. He, however, was so immersed in his work that he gave no more than a few short grunts in reply. Eventually, I gave up on him, and we rode the rest of the way to Osaka in silence.

We arrived at the venue, and found our seats in one of the first tiers with a good view of the arena. We were seated beside a few of Nobu’s business associates who enjoyed sumo as well, though it quickly became apparent that the man sitting directly next to Nobu knew nothing about it at all, and every other five minutes, would lean over to ask him a question about the most basic rules of the match. This put Nobu in a rather bad mood, as I had learned as an apprentice years ago that he had very little tolerance for people who didn’t understand sumo.

“The thing I don’t understand, Nobu-san,” I heard the man say, “is why they’ve got to wear those little loincloths.”

I strained to hear Nobu’s response, and when I heard him exhale crossly, I felt a great deal of sympathy for the poor man.

“For goodness’s sake, man! They’re called _mawashi_ – and they’re important to a wrestler’s strategy.”

“How? They’re just pieces of cloth!”

I could sense that Nobu was only seconds from losing his temper, and so I poured him a cup of sake and offered it to him before he could reply. In the end, however, it did little to calm him, and he launched into a lengthy explanation of _mawashi_ that lasted a good five minutes.

When he was finally finished, Nobu turned back toward me and grumbled, “I swear, Sayuri, I’ve never met a bigger fool in my life.”

In truth, I found the whole thing quite humorous, but said only, “Nobu-san must remember that not everyone understands sumo as well as he does.”

“Well, I can’t see why not,” he snapped.

I thought for a moment, and after refilling his sake cup, I asked, “Would Nobu-san be able to tell me about the greatest dancers in Gion?”

He looked at me as if I’d gone mad. “Absolutely not.”

“Or would he be able to name for me every piece taught by the Inoue School of dance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sayuri,” he told me as he took a drink.

“That’s what I mean. That man knows just as much about sumo as Nobu-san knows about dance.”

This seemed to give Nobu something to mull over, and the next time he spoke with the man, he was markedly less harsh to him. That didn’t last long, however, and after a while, Nobu was back to snapping at him. In the end, it was only after I gave him a firm, reproachful glare that he began to grit his teeth and endeavor to be polite.

The rest of the match passed without incident, and after it was over, Nobu and I stepped into a car waiting outside for us. Night had fallen, and the cool autumn air had a bite to it that only the darkness could bring.

As we drove through the city, Nobu continued to rant about the man. “He asked me the name of one of the wrestlers, and I told him. That alone wouldn’t have bothered me, but a few minutes later, he asked me his name again! ‘I’ve just told you his name,’ I said, and he told me he couldn’t tell the two men apart. The third time he asked me his name, Sayuri, I nearly wrung his neck-“ He stopped suddenly when he heard me laughing and scowled. “What is so funny?”

“You, Nobu-san! You’re so grouchy tonight – and you take it all so seriously.”

“What’s not to be taken seriously?” he demanded, and the look on his face only made me laugh harder. For a moment I thought he would reprimand me for not being serious, but to my surprise, he only began chuckling along with me.

“I don’t know how you’ve done it,” he told me after sobering up. “But you’ve made me enjoy myself tonight. I would’ve had a terrible time without you.”

“I’m very glad Nobu-san enjoyed himself,” I replied, just as the car came to a halt outside an inn in the middle of the city.

The moment I saw it, the laughter died on my tongue, and I eyed the building with trepidation as we exited the car, for I could only assume he meant for us to share a room tonight. As I remembered what had happened the last time we’d tried such a thing, I felt fear pierce my heart like a dagger, and every muscle inside me tensed.

I must not have hidden my fear well at all, because when Nobu looked over at me, his eyes softened, and he frowned. “I’ve rented two rooms, Sayuri. You’ve no need to join me in mine, unless you want to.”

My initial terror melted away, and as I looked at Nobu there, standing in the light of the paper lanterns hanging above the entryway to the inn with his hand tucked into his pocket, I felt a strange emotion arise within me that I couldn’t quite identify. For a brief instance, I thought to myself that he looked almost tragically handsome there in the dimly lit entryway, and it took me aback, as I’d never noticed such a thing about him before. Nobu was looking at me as if he truly believed there was no chance at all that I would accept his invitation, but in truth, I felt an instinctive pull towards him, like a magnet drawn to its other half. As I had the night at this estate, I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t know why I felt so drawn, and I saw no way of combating it, for it seemed as though some higher power had taken control of me. Having taken my silence for refusal, Nobu began to turn and step inside the inn – but before he could get very far, my voice stopped him.

“Yes,” I said, halting Nobu in his tracks. When he turned to look at me, he appeared as though he thought he hadn’t heard me correctly.

“What?”

“Yes, Nobu-san. I…” I was frightened, yet just as curious; I was drawn to him, and it terrified me so. “I will join you tonight.”

At once, I could see something in him change. His shoulders slumped, and his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to speak but could not find the words. Nobu looked as shocked and uncertain as I’d ever seen him, but after a minute, he straightened his back and nodded, walking inside the inn with me following close behind. We were shown to our room by one of the maids, and Nobu led me inside, sliding the door shut behind us.

The room was grander by far than the cheap inn in Kyoto the General had taken me to when he was my _danna_. It was extravagantly decorated with tapestries and fine rugs, with potted plants in the corners of the room and a large window near the back through which the city lights were visible. I didn't look at my surroundings long, however, for when I turned toward Nobu, I found that he was watching me with such intensity that I couldn’t help but shiver. I knew what would go on between us this night, and though the idea still frightened me, it did not seem nearly as miserable a prospect as it had before. In one swift movement, Nobu removed his overcoat and folded it nearby, and once he was done, he looked at me like a man looking at the sun, blinded by its beauty.

He took a few steps toward me and stopped, his eyes never once leaving me. Slowly, he reached his hand out and rested it on my cheek, and when he did, I could feel the subtle trembling of his fingers. My heart was racing, but not from fear; it was something else entirely, something I could never hope to explain. Before I even knew what was happening, he had seized my lips with his own and pulled me into him. I felt myself leaning into his kiss, which was not rough, but gentle and tender, in a way I had never thought a man like Nobu could be.

There was fear and fire rushing through my veins when we broke apart. My eyes were wide, and so were his; I was so open in that instant that each press of our lips together felt as if Nobu had reached inside of me and touched my soul. When he kissed me again, I felt Nobu’s hand creep around my back to my obi and pull at it, though the piece of fabric was so intricately and tightly knotted that his movements were futile. He tugged again – harder this time – and when it still did not budge, I let out a soft laugh beneath his lips. Before I knew it, he was chuckling too, and we laughed together with our foreheads pressed up against one another, our bodies quaking with merriment.

“Even if I had both my hands,” he remarked. “I still don’t think I would be able to untie that thing.”

When I reached behind my back to untie it myself, I found that it was not much less of a struggle for me, but because I was far more familiar with how an obi was tied, I managed to undo it after a while. Mr. Bekku had been scheduled to follow us on the next train to Osaka but had been delayed, and in his absence, I supposed I would have to make do without a dresser. When I had finally untied my obi, I let it fall to the ground and returned my lips to his timidly, as he curled his arm around my body. It did not take long after that for my robes and undergarments to disappear, and once they had, I began to tremble. I wanted to break away and run, yet somehow at the same time, I yearned to be closer to him, for his touch had shaken me to my very core, unlike the touch of any man before him.

Nobu pulled away when he felt me begin to shudder, and after taking a long look at me, he let out a long breath that carried my name on it. “Sayuri…”

Then, he placed his lips on a spot on my neck that nearly made me go limp, and summoned a rush of what I could only suppose was desire through me. I was still shaking, though Nobu seemed to sense that it was not from fear, for as he touched me, I could feel his hand quiver against my skin as well. I seemed to frighten him just as he frightened me, yet we were too far gone to stop now, and truthfully, I wasn’t certain I wanted to. It was not passion that fueled our every touch, but something deeper, more enduring; passion was fickle and fleeting, but this pull between us – the _en_ that bound our lives together, perhaps – was a bond of fate, unbreakable and irrevocable.

After a time, he guided me over to the futon, and I knelt down upon it and watched him struggle to unbutton his shirt with one hand, finally casting it aside after a long moment. Once it had been discarded, I paused for a moment to look at Nobu, as I had only ever seen him so exposed once before, in the hot springs on Amami. Scars littered one side of his neck and left shoulder, but his chest and right arm were perfectly smooth, the muscles in them firm from his time in the military. I did not linger long, however, for he laid me down shortly afterward, and as he had before, began to kiss my breasts and neck. Before I had found it unbearable, but now I felt gentle shivers of desire pass through me, and even more strangely, I could feel a sort of fluttering and aching between my legs – though for what, I couldn’t say. In truth, I was frightened by his ability to awake such feelings in my body; I was terrified that Nobu had such power over me, and terrified that, try as I might, I could never seem to escape it.

I was so overcome by desire and fear that I did not even see him remove his pants, and when he lowered himself gently on top of me between my legs, I felt the familiar, almost innate fear that I had felt every time a man had gotten so close to me in such a manner. For a moment I wondered why on earth I had agreed to come, but when I glanced up and saw him looking at me with tenderness, my fear faded somewhat. I could sense that he would soon begin, and I closed my eyes out of instinct. I had never enjoyed this before, and though I had come alive with feelings tonight I’d never felt before, I couldn’t see why I would like it any better now. A moment passed, but he still did not move, and instead, I was surprised to hear him speak.

“Look at me, Sayuri.”

His words were calm and quiet, his breathing as heavy as mine was. I could do nothing but obey, and when I opened my eyes, I found his face hovering mere inches from mine. Though I certainly had, I felt as though I’d never been so close to Nobu before. The scarring on one half of his face and the sight of his stump of an arm should have disgusted me, perhaps, but in that instant, I could see nothing but his eyes, dark and brown and as focused on mine as I’d ever seen them. Hesitantly, I brought my shaking hands to his cheeks and placed them there, feeling the roughness of his scars beneath my fingertips. Our eyes met, and I could not look away. I felt, somehow, as if there was no one on earth in that instant except the two of us, as if the rest of the world and everyone in it had vanished altogether.

Very slowly, with his eyes on mine, I felt him enter me, and I inhaled sharply, my eyelids fluttering shut before I could help it. For a time there was a dull feeling of discomfort, and I began to fear this would end up being no different than the nights I had spent in the General’s bed, but it lessened and eventually disappeared, replaced by hints of pleasure. I had certainly felt pleasure before, when I had seduced Yasuda Akira in Tatematsu Teahouse so very long ago, but our connection had been nothing more than physical, and it had felt nothing like this. Every movement of Nobu’s body against mine was slow, deliberate; nothing like the jerky, awkward movements of the General or the Doctor. In time, I felt a pressure within me building, as if I were climbing a mountain toward its peak, and it left me mystified. I had long been taught that a geisha was to do nothing but please her _danna_ while in his bed, and to think that I was experiencing pleasure from this too seemed so backwards and wrong that I thought for an instant perhaps I should not be feeling at all like I did.

I had been intimate with other men – but as I’d expected, with Nobu, it was so different that I felt almost as if this were my very first time. He touched places deep inside me where no one had ever ventured before; if I was a lump of clay, the imprint of his fingers on me was deeper even than Mameha’s. After a time, I felt the mounting pressure inside me rise almost to an unbearable height, as though I were a tea kettle about to erupt, and I bit down on my tongue to keep from making any noise, coiling my legs around him tightly. Nobu himself had been almost completely silent atop me, and so I kept quiet as well, for I couldn’t be seen to be wanton, or as if I were enjoying myself too much.

Yet when finally the pleasure mounting within my body reached its peak, I couldn’t hold back my gasps, and one of my hands came to rest on Nobu’s back as I grappled desperately to hold onto something. I could feel his scars beneath my palm, the most vulnerable part of him so utterly exposed to my touch, and it captivated me, as the waves of my pleasure crested and ultimately ebbed away. Shortly afterward, he found his pleasure as well, and collapsed onto the futon beside me, breathing heavily and looking just as dazed as I did.

As we lay there, side by side, I realized that what I felt had been the first true pleasure I’d ever known, pleasure born from a deeper place than that which I had felt before; a connection not only of the body, but of the soul. I was stunned, hopelessly confused, but after lying there for a stunned moment, I remembered myself and began to get up to put on my sleeping robe. It wouldn’t do for me to be seen to be anything less than entirely composed, though on the inside I felt as unraveled as a ball of yarn.

“Does Nobu-san need anything?” I asked him breathlessly as I started to sit up, for it was expected of geisha to be attentive to her _danna_ at all times – even times like this.

“No,” he told me, reaching out and catching my wrist to stop me before I could rise. “Just you.”

I stopped, and looked back at him in surprise. His eyes were hazy and his skin flushed, but when it became clear that he truly did require nothing but my presence, I laid myself back down beside him. Though I didn’t know what drove me to it, I inched myself closer to him and settled in at his side, like a piece of a puzzle finding its perfect fit. I was stunned by how right it all felt, how the touch of my body to his felt as natural as the leaves changing color in the fall. I could feel Nobu’s eyes on me, and after a moment, he wrapped his arm around me and drew me closer. I had stopped shaking by then, and as I laid my head on his chest, I felt the strangest, most powerful sense of peace come over me.

After a moment, I reached out and felt the scarring on his shoulder with one finger, tracing it like a map across his skin. I could feel Nobu tense, but I was strangely mesmerized by it, by each pockmark and wrinkle and scar. Then, as if I were in a sort of trance, I brought my hand to his stump of an arm, and pressed my hand lightly down upon it. Again, he tensed but did not push me away, and I knew at once that no one had ever touched his missing arm like I was, in such a gentle, innocent manner. It did not disgust or appall me; in truth, I saw his injuries as only one patch in the quilt that made up Nobu, a page in the storybook of his life. I could hear the beating of his heart, and its rhythmic thumping relaxed me, my muscles releasing their tension.

After we had laid there like that for a time, I raised my head and looked up at Nobu, only to find that he had been looking down at me with sleepy affection in his eyes. I pondered for a moment what to say, but ultimately, I decided to say nothing at all, and instead I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek with a sort of childlike fascination.

My eyes were drooping with fatigue, and I could see that his were as well, but as we looked at one another in the silence, I sensed for the first time how deeply we understood each other, when for so long I had convinced myself that Nobu did not – and would never – understand me at all.

Eventually, I laid my head back down on his chest and closed my eyes. When at last I fell asleep, I dreamed that I was floating at sea with someone at my side, though whenever I tried to look over at them, I could never see just who it was. After a while I decided it must be the Chairman, and so I floated along in the cool water contently, yet when I dared to look again once some time had passed, I was entirely unprepared for the sight that met my eyes.

It had been Nobu at my side all along, and never the Chairman at all.


	4. Chapter 4

After that night, my entire world felt as though it had shifted.

Everything I had ever thought I knew about Nobu – and the Chairman, and even myself – had been thrown into question. I had made a map of my destiny in my mind years ago, certain I knew where it would lead me, but now, it felt as though all the places on my map had been switched around and rewritten, and it was impossible for me to navigate any longer.

For so long I had thought of Nobu as nothing more than a stepping stone toward the Chairman that I’d never considered he might not be simply a stop along the way of my journey, but its ultimate destination. Perhaps I had only ever met the Chairman on the banks of the Shirakawa Stream as a child and been inspired by his act of kindness so that I could be led to Nobu years later. Perhaps every step I thought I had taken towards the Chairman had been to bring myself closer to Nobu instead.

Perhaps my true destiny had been right in front of me all along, and I’d been too blind to see it.

As soon as I returned to Gion, I sent for a little package of Chinese contraceptive herbs and brewed tea with them, as I had so frequently done after being in the General’s bed. Mother must have caught wind of the situation, because she found me just as I was beginning to drink the tea at the table in the reception room and folded her arms, puffing her pipe as she looked at me.

“So Nobu’s finally had you in his bed, has he? Took him long enough!” she let out her low, choking laugh and blew a trail of smoke out of her mouth. “Was he pleased with you?”

I felt myself flush as memories of the night returned to my mind, but I nodded nevertheless. “Yes.”

“Well, then with any luck we’ll be receiving some new jewelry soon, or another kimono. Men don’t have a scrap of sense in them when it comes to money after they’ve had a woman in their bed; Nobu won’t be any different.”

With that, she turned and was gone from the room, but the heaviness of her words made it feel almost as though she were still there. I knew that the nature of mine and Nobu’s relationship was more a business deal than anything else; he gave me gifts and paid my expenses, and I allowed him generosities I didn’t grant any of my other customers, yet Mother’s word troubled me, for I had felt something deeper with him that night in Osaka that stretched beyond the confines of our arrangement. Mameha had told me once that a man’s feelings must always be under a geisha’s control, that she could never let passion slip into their dealings, but in truth, I could not be in control of Nobu’s feelings when I was barely even in control of my own.

As I took a sip of the tea, I pictured the future as a road before me and tried to see where it would lead, but it was as if what had once been so clear was now foggy, and what was certain uncertain. Yet even so, every road I imagined seemed to lead back to Nobu, and there was no escaping it.

* * *

A week later, I saw Pumpkin for the first time since Iwamura Electric’s trip to Amami.

I was browsing a store that sold handbags and other accessories near the river, and after purchasing a few things, I stepped out onto the street and began the walk back to the okiya. Just as I was passing Maruyama Park, however, I spotted a geisha strolling along with two American G. I.’s at her side. There was something familiar about the way she walked, but it was only when I drew closer that I realized it was Pumpkin, clad in a rather plain green kimono. I considered turning around and walking in the other direction, but something kept me from doing so; perhaps it was my long-held hope that Pumpkin and I would one day become friends again, despite everything that had happened between us. So, I kept on in the direction I was going, and it only took Pumpkin a moment to notice me and call my name.

“Sayuri-san!” she cried, appearing much happier to see me than she’d been the last time we’d met, in her new derelict okiya. Pumpkin turned to the men and waved them away. “Run along now, boys! I’ve got important business to attend to!”

The soldiers nodded and shuffled away, leaving me and Pumpkin to walk through the park together. She eyed my newly-purchased handbag like a hungry child eyeing a bowl of rice, as I knew that she’d been starved of such finery in recent years.

“What a lovely bag! It looks like it costs more than I make in a month.” I didn’t know what to say to that, and it must’ve shown on my face, because Pumpkin laughed and shook her head. “Don’t look so worried. I was joking; these American boys can’t get enough of me. Of course, I’ll never be as successful as Miss Nitta Sayuri – and I’m _sure_ I’ll never have as wealthy a _danna_ as Nobu Toshikazu.”

There was a hint of scorn in her voice that she did a poor job of hiding, and for a second, I saw a terrifying flicker of Hatsumomo appear behind her eyes, but it was there and gone just as quickly as it had come.

After a moment, I looked over at Pumpkin and smiled. “I’m glad to see you looking so well, Pumpkin. I had meant to come see you-“

“But you were too busy? Well, we have a lot to catch up on.” She linked her arm through mine, and raised her eyebrows. “Tell me _all_ about him.”

“Who?”

“You know _who_. Your dashing _danna_ , of course!” She leaned in close to me and lowered her voice. “Have you done ‘you-know-what’ yet?” I blushed, and Pumpkin laughed. “Well, that means it was either very good, or very bad.”

Not wanting to tell her the truth, I shook my head. “No. We…haven’t.”

“You haven’t?” Pumpkin looked bewildered. “How strange! Maybe his arm wasn’t all that got blown off in the war.” I could hardly believe she’d said such a thing, and I stared at her in disbelief. She chuckled and patted my arm. “I’m only kidding. My goodness, Sayuri, have you lost your sense of humor over the years?”

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Pumpkin was talking to me as though we were friends – though of course I did very much want to be friends with her again – when she’d been so cold to me the first time we’d seen one another after the war. 

“Forgive me, Pumpkin, but I don’t understand,” I stopped and met her eyes. “You seemed angry with me, when I went to your okiya to ask for your help entertaining months ago. What changed?”

Pumpkin stopped to think for a moment, and resumed our walk a moment later with a sigh.

“Oh, I _was_ angry with you, to tell you the truth. I hated you when Mother chose to adopt you instead of me, and I hated you even more when you got to go into the hills during the war and I ended up in a factory. But the past is the past, Sayuri-san. We ought to be friends, shouldn’t we? Besides,” she grinned and stopped suddenly, turning toward me and wriggling her eyebrows. “Friends keep friends’ secrets, don’t they?”

All at once, I froze, but managed to feign confusion a second later. “Secrets?”

Pumpkin’s smile never fell from her lips; if anything, it grew wider as she spoke. “Tragic, isn’t it? Once a geisha is the mistress of a man’s business partner, he would never dare steal her away for himself. Even if she wanted to, she could never be his.”

She knew; it was clear to see in her eyes, which were looking at me as if they could see right through my façade. She knew of my feelings for the Chairman; she knew that I hadn’t wanted Nobu as my _danna_. I hadn't the slightest clue how, but she knew everything, every secret I thought I had hidden away so carefully that no one but me would ever find it, every hope I had buried deep inside myself and stowed away in darkness.

I felt dizzy, and my stomach sank. Though I’m sure it was poorly done, I pretended to be puzzled again. “I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well then, perhaps I’m mistaken. After all, you must be thrilled to have Nobu as your _danna_. Who wouldn’t be?”

Both of us knew perfectly well that Pumpkin wasn’t mistaken at all, but she said nothing more to me and simply sauntered off, her hips swinging and her head held high, as if she were the greatest geisha in all of Gion. I watched her go in horror, and for the briefest of seconds, I swore that I could see Hatsumomo in her place, returning to haunt me like a demon I could never exorcise.

* * *

Once or twice a week, I met Nobu when he came to Gion, sometimes in a teahouse or restaurant for dinner, or occasionally in an inn in the north of Kyoto, where we would spend the night together. It became something of a routine, though not an unpleasant one like it had been with the General, for, in truth, I felt closer to him than I did to anyone else, and found myself looking forward to seeing him in the evenings when he came. The Chairman still came to my mind, but now, my longing for him felt cold and distant, as if there were a thousand miles between us, though I did still see him from time to time at the Ichiriki. My heart felt emptier, yet at the same time, with Nobu’s frequent company, it felt as though what I had lost had been replaced with something more fulfilling.

One night, when I was waiting for Nobu at the inn we frequented in the evenings, he arrived an hour later than expected, so exhausted and irritated that he did nothing but greet me rather curtly and ask me to draw him a bath. I didn’t ask what had happened, and there was a weariness about him that told me not to.

“Sometimes, Sayuri,” he sighed deeply as I helped him out of his shoes and jacket, and led him over to the bath. “I swear I’m the only sensible person in this world.”

“I’m sorry to hear Nobu-san has had a bad day,” I replied while he removed his clothes and sank into the steaming water of the bath. I collected his clothes and folded them, and I was about to turn and leave him to bathe when he spoke again.

“Get in with me. I’m not in the mood to be alone.”

I hesitated, surprised at the request, but nodded nonetheless and undid the loose obi knot Mr. Bekku had tied for me before Nobu’s arrival. Once I’d cast aside my robes, I stepped into the bath as well and settled myself against him. The hot water felt heavenly against my skin, as I seldom had enough free time to enjoy a calming bath at the bathhouse, and as I closed my eyes, I felt a wave of fatigue pass over me. I thought for a moment the feeling of my naked body against his would make Nobu stir, but he was so tired that he barely even seemed to notice, and after I’d situated myself, he placed his arm around me and exhaled what seemed like all his frustrations in one breath.

“The idea of seeing you tonight was the only thing that kept me sane,” he muttered. “But I don’t want to think about today. Tell me one of your stories.”

“What kind of story would Nobu-san like me to tell?” I asked.

“I don’t know; I’m sure you know hundreds. Every geisha seems to.”

I stopped to think for a moment, and when I began to speak, I began slowly, choosing each of my words with care.

“One day, long ago, in a little village called Yoroido…” There, I paused, thinking perhaps that I should not tell Nobu this, but something beckoned me to continue. “There was a young girl, the daughter of a fisherman, who lived in a house on the sea cliffs. Her mother was very ill, and her father was an old man. They knew they couldn’t care for her and her sister anymore, and so they sent them away. Her sister was taken to one of the pleasure districts, and she was sold as a servant to an okiya to one day become a geisha. There was another girl in the okiya, around her age, and they became friends. But even though she was training to be a geisha, the girl was miserable; the geisha living there was cruel to her, and so she made a plan with her sister to run away.”

“But the geisha mother locked the doors at night, and so she had to climb on the rooftop of the okiya to escape. She didn’t get very far before she fell off and broke her arm, and when the mother learned she’d tried to run away, she stopped her geisha schooling, and decided she’d pay back her debt by being her slave instead. Her sister had run away without her, her parents had died… and she was all alone.”

This was the point in the story in which I would’ve mentioned a kind stranger stopping to buy the crying girl shaved ice on the street, but I couldn’t bear to speak of the Chairman, and so I omitted it with a heavy heart.

“Then one day, years later, one of the greatest geisha in Japan came to the okiya. She and the geisha living in the girl’s okiya were rivals, and she told the geisha mother that she intended to take the girl on as her younger sister. The older geisha in the okiya had already taken the girl’s friend on as her apprentice, and they became rivals, though they’d been friends as children. The older geisha did everything she could to sabotage the girl’s career, but eventually, the geisha mother decided to adopt the girl as the daughter of the okiya… and she became one of the greatest geisha in Gion.”

It was there that I stopped rather abruptly, as I couldn’t think of anything more to say, and for a moment, Nobu said nothing. When he finally spoke, I could hear the frown in his voice. “That wasn’t one of your geisha stories.”

“No.”

At once, Nobu seemed to understand. “The girl in the story was you, wasn’t it?”

Slowly, I nodded and murmured, “Yes.” There was a moment of silence, and I began to think that I should never have dared to tell him such a tale. “Perhaps Nobu-san would rather hear another story.”

“No,” he spoke firmly, but not harshly. “I don’t want one of your frivolous geisha stories, Sayuri. I’d much rather hear your story.”

Taken aback, I hesitated to begin, but once I started to talk, it was as if the stop in my throat had been loosened, and I couldn’t seem to keep the words from pouring out. I retold my story, though without the vagueness I’d used before and in much greater detail. I told Nobu of my life in Yoroido, how alone I had felt during my mother’s illness; I told him of my terror when I was ripped from my home and sold to the Nitta okiya. I told him of the cruelty of Hatsumomo, the kindness of Mameha, the childhood friendship I’d shared with Pumpkin. I left things out, of course; things I knew Nobu would not want to hear, like my _mizuage_ and my time with the General as my _danna_ , but the things I told him far outnumbered those I did not. Most geisha would never dare to open themselves up to their _danna_ as I was, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I spoke until my mouth had run dry of words, until the bathwater around us had grown cold, and Nobu listened without a word, soaking up the story like a sponge absorbing water.

“Sayuri isn’t your real name, then,” he remarked after I’d finished. I licked my lips and shook my head, prompting him to ask, “What is it?”

“Chiyo,” I told him softly. Saying the name aloud myself after so many years felt strange, as if I was breathing life back into a part of me that had died.

“Chiyo,” Nobu repeated, and the moment he did, my breath caught in my throat.

I had worn my geisha name Sayuri as delicately as I wore kimono, but under her was always Chiyo, the fisherman’s daughter from Yoroido. When Nobu spoke my old name, it felt almost as if he’d reached in and placed his hand on a part of myself I had shown precious few people in my lifetime. He had peeled off the white mask of Sayuri and revealed the girl beneath, and suddenly, I felt horribly exposed.

I gulped, realizing all at once how chilly the water in the bath had grown, and rose to stand without warning, stepping out and reaching for my cotton sleeping robe. “Forgive me, Nobu-san. I have said too much.”

He stood as well, and after slipping on his robe as well, approached where I stood in the corner, with my back turned to him and my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

 “I have known you as a geisha for many years, Sayuri,” he said suddenly. “It’s past time I knew you as a woman as well.”

Hesitantly, I turned to Nobu, and when I saw the sincerity in his eyes, I relaxed somewhat. Shortly afterward, he led me over to the futon, and we lay down upon it side by side, as Nobu was far too tired to have much interest in anything more tonight; in fact, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep with his arm around me barely a minute later.

As I watched him sleep, I remembered something Mameha had told me long ago, when I’d first met Nobu as an apprentice. _‘You can bet it isn’t your conversation he’s attracted to,’_ she’d said, and while I lay beside him in that instant, having bared my soul so completely to him, I pondered how wrong she had been. Nobu, like any man, wanted to know my body, but he wanted to know my mind, too – something I had been taught was of little consequence at all, except for my ability to keep up a witty repartee with the men I entertained. My customers had never known me as anything other than the geisha Sayuri, and certainly they had never bothered to stop and realize that I’d had a life before. But now Nobu knew me both as a geisha and as my true self, as Sayuri and as Chiyo; he had looked past the layers under which I had concealed myself, and seen me as no one had seen me before.

* * *

In mid-September, I was invited by Iwamura Electric to attend a moon-viewing party on Osawa Pond, in the west of Kyoto. Situated in front of the Daikaku-ji Temple, Osawa Pond – which was not really a pond, but rather a small lake – was renowned for its extraordinary views of the harvest moon, and in the fall, it was a much sought-after spot for moon-viewing parties on small boats and things of the sort.

On the night of the party, however, my rickshaw driver happened to stumble and break his ankle halfway to Osawa Pond, and finding another one delayed me nearly a quarter of an hour. By the time I’d arrived to board the boat, it appeared as if the party was preparing to set off without me, and I had to scurry on as fast I could manage without tripping over my kimono.

The boat on which the party was held was elaborately decorated with a golden dragon’s head at the bow and a curved roof over the seating. It was the size of a small room and rather narrow, with most of the space taken up by two rows of wooden benches on either side and trays for food and sake in between them. Red paper lanterns hung from the eaves of the roof, and two men stood at the front and back with poles in their hands, ready to push away from shore. There were no more than a dozen men on board, among them the Chairman and Nobu, but when I stepped onto the boat and took a look at the geisha who were attending, my stomach sank.

Of all people, Pumpkin was there, kneeling on a cushion next to Nobu, and I was horrified to see that it appeared as though they had already been speaking for a while. I hadn’t the slightest idea why she would be at a party like this, but sometime later, I discovered that, as it so happened, Pumpkin had become quite a favorite of one of Iwamura Electric’s regional managers, who was in attendance that night and had requested her company. Nobu had a scowl on his face, and when I came over to kneel beside him, he didn’t seem glad at all to see me, and barely even looked my way.

With a feeling of dread festering in my stomach, I realized that Pumpkin must have already poured some kind of poison into his ear, but she greeted me with a smile and a bow as if nothing had happened.

“Sayuri-san, there you are!” she smiled, as the men began to push the boat away from shore. “We were beginning to think you had forgotten all about us.”

“Nobu-san must forgive me,” I said as I reached over to pour him sake. “My rickshaw driver was injured on the way here.”

His only reply was a low grunt to acknowledge he’d heard me, and so Pumpkin answered instead, “How unfortunate! Well anyway, it gave Nobu-san and I time to catch up, didn’t it? I was just telling him about that one man…oh, what was his name? That Kabuki actor you used to _adore_?”

That was a lie, and both of us knew it, but it was far less damning than the truth Pumpkin knew, and with a heavy heart, I knew I had no choice but to play along.

I didn’t say anything, and Pumpkin shook her head. “Whatever his name was, Sayuri was head over heels in love with him, for a number of years. Every time he was at a party, she’d follow him around like a puppy. It was sweet, really. She turned as red as a beet whenever he spoke to her, and gave him little presents, too. You told me all about it, Sayuri, don’t you remember?”

In that instant, the way she spoke reminded me so much of Hatsumomo that I felt as though I were an apprentice again, at a banquet with Hatsumomo taking every opportunity she could to humiliate me. In fact, it was almost frightening to see how much she had rubbed off on Pumpkin.

“And one night, when she brought him back to the maids’ quarters…oh, I shouldn’t say,” Pumpkin drifted off for a moment and gave me a knowing look. “But that was a long, long time ago, wasn’t it?”

Except for the truth about the Chairman, she couldn’t have told Nobu a worse story; if there was one thing he hated, it was to think of me with other men, and I could see a muscle rippling in his jaw as he sat there clenching it in fury. Thankfully, Pumpkin, having determined she’d done me enough damage for the night, turned her attention to the man next to her, leaving me alone with a fuming mad Nobu. For a while, I tried to get him to talk, but it quickly became clear he had no intention of responding to me, and eventually, I gave up, staring up at the glowing white moon in silence as it cast its reflection out across the pond.

After an hour or so, the party moved to the estate of one of Iwamura Electric’s executives in Kyoto. Nobu had barely spoken a single word to me all night, and I was beginning to wish I could disappear into thin air, though I hid my unhappiness behind a smile. Pumpkin, meanwhile, looked very pleased that she’d managed to stir up trouble between us, and spent the party telling jokes and getting increasingly drunk as the hour drew later. Not long after we’d arrived at the estate, however, Nobu disappeared, and after I hadn’t seen him for half an hour, I decided to go looking for him. After a while, I found him in one of the second story guest bedrooms, standing by the window in the darkness with a glass of something that looked like scotch in his hand.

I stepped inside the room with a frown and slid the door shut behind me. “Nobu-san?” He didn’t answer, and so I moved closer to him. “Nobu-san is missing the party.” To that, he only gave a low _humph_ , and I lowered my voice, “Is Nobu-san upset with me?”

“No,” he rasped, though his voice did indeed hold a note of anger in it. “Pumpkin’s little story about you and that Kabuki actor only reminded me what a fool I am, Sayuri.”

“What do you mean?”

I came to stand at his side, and when I looked over at him, the moonlight illuminated only half of his face; the half without any scarring. It was a bizarre sight to see, and I could only stare at Nobu as he exhaled sharply and took another drink of his scotch.

“You never wanted me for you _danna_ , did you?” he asked me pointedly, and when the moonlight caught in his eyes, he looked as though he could see right through me, and knew what I was going to say before I even said it.

Stunned, I opened my mouth to reply, but swiftly closed it, for I had no idea what to say to him. I hadn’t wanted him for my _danna_ at first, that much was true, but now, after all we had shared with one another, my feelings toward him had changed completely. I had gone from being his friend to being his mistress, and my affection for him – which had once been tainted with pity – now didn’t have a scrap of pity in it at all.

I was about to respond when Nobu shook his head and scowled. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” His mood seemed to grow darker, his frown deeper. “Still, I’ve been such a fool all along.”

There was a melancholy air about him, but he seemed just as angry as he was sad, and it took me a moment before I was able to speak. “Oh, Nobu-san, you aren’t a fool.”

“Have you any idea, Sayuri,” he turned to me suddenly, his eyes as intense and piercing as I’d ever seen them, “how much I love you?”

My eyes widened, and somehow, I felt both incredibly touched and chastised by his words. He hadn’t said them tenderly as most men would when professing their love for a woman; he’d growled them, almost spit them at me, and I was so caught off guard that I felt as if I’d been slapped.

Breathlessly, I tried to speak, “I-“

“I’ve loved you for years. I loved you, even when I hated you for casting me aside and taking that fool of a General as your _danna_ instead. Every day in Osaka during the war, when bombs were falling all around me, I thought of you. I told myself that if I was going to die, then at least I would be able to die thinking of you.”

Nobu had never spoken to me like this, and my heart was pounding so loudly inside me that it was difficult for me to hear him. As he always did, he was hurling his words like stones, and each one hit me square in the chest, until I was struggling to breathe.

“Somehow I’d convinced myself that you felt the same,” he lowered his voice and stopped to take another drink. “And that is why I am a fool, Sayuri. Only fools let themselves fall in love with geisha.”

For a while we stood there in silence, for I didn’t think I could ever find something to say to that. My eyes were watering, my cheeks burning as I replayed his words again and again in my head. In the darkness, it was difficult to see Nobu, but even so, I noticed that he was watching me intently, waiting for a response. However, when I still hadn’t spoken after a minute, he turned back toward the window and sloshed the alcohol in his glass around without a word. The atmosphere between us felt heavy, almost as if it were pressing its weight down upon me, and I had so much I wanted to say to him that I feared I would never be able to adequately express myself.

After what felt like an eternity, I summoned the courage to speak. “Mameha told me something, once.”

Nobu scoffed, “What did Mameha tell you?”

“She told me that we have an _en_ ,” I managed to steady my voice. Hesitantly, I took a step towards him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I felt it then, all those years ago.”

Abruptly, he turned so that he was fully facing me, and drew closer to me as well, until he was so close that I could feel every twinge of every muscle inside him as he moved. My breath hitched in my throat, and when I finally continued, it felt as though the room was spinning madly around me.

“And I feel it now.”

For the longest moment, Nobu looked at me with an unreadable expression on his face, yet even so, I could tell that he sensed the _en_ between us, too. It had never felt stronger than it did then, this unbreakable bond that I had once cursed, and before I even realized what I was doing, I was leaning toward him, drawing my mouth closer and closer to his, and he was placing his hand on my arm and pulling me against him so that our lips at last collided. Though he was not drunk, I could taste the scotch on his tongue, and to feel the warmth of his body pressed so closely to mine felt more satisfying than I could ever say.

Without warning, he pressed me up against the wall, and began to push past the cumbersome layers of my kimono. The fire raging within me was so great that I hardly even noticed, until his hand found my bare skin beneath my _koshimaki_. I couldn’t help but gasp, for every touch of his cold hand to my body felt like a jolt of electricity passing through my veins, and hardly a minute later, he had removed the rest of the barriers of clothing between us and pressed himself into me. His movements were short, quick, and I had to bite my lip from crying out, knowing it wouldn’t do for us to be discovered like this.

“Forget that Kabuki actor, that fool of a General,” he rasped into my ear, and it made me shiver. “Forget them, Sayuri.”

I gave nothing but a soft whimper in reply, and as Nobu moved against me, his was the only name that tumbled from my lips, again and again. Indeed, it did feel almost as though I’d forgotten everyone else in the world; I was conscious only of the feeling of him inside me, and the sound of my own breathing. Even if I’d wanted to think of anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to, for my every thought lead me back to him. I was like a compass with its needle stuck pointing in one direction, and there was no escaping it.


	5. Chapter 5

Some weeks later, just as the cool winds of winter were beginning to arrive, Nobu took me to a hot springs resort north of Kyoto for the weekend. It was a remote little place, with springs that overlooked the snow-capped mountains and luxurious rooms. I hadn’t had a day of leisure in so many years that it felt very strange to relax without a sense of urgency always in the back of my mind, yet I had never been so content, and my restlessness vanished as the hours ticked by.

For the entirety of our two days there, we were scarcely ever apart for more than a few minutes. We bathed in the springs together, and went sightseeing in a nearby village for a time. We walked together in the little garden near the inn, and ate every meal together as well. We talked, and laughed, and in the evenings, we returned to our room and made love by the fireside.

And it was in that little resort town, hidden away from the prying eyes of Gion, that I realized for the first time I cared for Nobu as a man.

He spoke to me not as merely a geisha, but as his equal; and though I knew little of business or the other things he talked about, he never made me feel foolish for being so unworldly. He listened to me closely, and insisted that I speak honestly to him, as a woman. When he touched me, I felt as though I had been living only half alive before, and he had fully awakened me. For so many years I had been infatuated with the Chairman that breaking free from it made me feel as if I were a butterfly emerging from its cocoon in the springtime, into a better and more beautiful life. The world itself seemed sunnier, and when I awoke every morning, I awoke with a pleasant sense of fullness inside me that I’d never felt before.

I had beautiful kimono, and fine jewelry, and any number of precious items Nobu had given me, but I began to feel that, if it were all to crumble into dust tomorrow and I was left with nothing except Nobu himself, I would be perfectly content.

After the two days had passed, we returned to our lives, he to his world of business and me to my flower and willow world. And when I laid down on my futon on my first night back in Gion, it was Nobu – not the Chairman – that entered my thoughts, and crept into my dreams unbidden.

* * *

The rest of that winter passed almost as in a dream, and my life settled into a pleasant routine of entertaining, attending the little school, and spending the occasional evening with Nobu. However, in the spring, I grew busy again with _Dances of the Old Capital_ , and saw much less of him as the season went on. I’d been given a solo role, as well as a part in a few group numbers, and I was required at the theater frequently for rehearsals; and when the dances began, every evening for performances.

Though Nobu didn’t much care for dance, he came to the theater one evening in the middle of April to see the show. Knowing he was there put me in an unusually good mood, and when I began my dance, I thought of him as I made every movement. The piece I was dancing was based on an old Chinese legend, in which a fisherman catches a mermaid in his net one day while out at sea. She can’t talk, but the two fall in love without a word, and he brings her home with him to be his wife. When he dies, the mermaid returns to the sea where he caught her, and bids the land and the fisherman a tearful farewell. The geisha Miyoka played the role of the fisherman, while I danced the part of the mermaid herself, dressed in an exquisite blue kimono embroidered with silver waves that made it appear almost as though I was cloaked in the sea itself.

I danced the first half of the piece flawlessly, but when it came time for me to dance my farewell to the fisherman, I felt an odd sort of tightening in my chest, and everything around me began to look strangely blurry. At first, I managed to ignore it and continued to dance, each of my movements sharp and practiced. I could feel the heaviness of the mermaid’s sadness pressing down upon me – but after a time, I realized that it felt as though something really was pressing down on my chest, hindering my breathing. I had always been taught to keep my breathing slow and even while dancing, and suddenly, it felt as though I was nearly gasping for air. The world around me blurred into a mess of colors and shapes; it looked like a pallet of paints that had all run together. All at once, my arms felt heavy and fuzzy, my legs awkward, but I managed to finish my dance somehow, though everything was spinning so wildly around me that I could hardly focus my eyes.

When at last I was finished, I managed to stumble off of stage, where Mameha and a few other geisha were waiting in the wings for their dance to begin. By then I was gasping for breath and struggling to stand, grappling onto one of the nearby walls just to remain on my feet. Taking notice of my distress, Mameha rushed over and looped her arm through mine to steady me.

“My goodness, Sayuri, what is it?” she asked. Her voice sounded distant, like an echo, and as I looked at her, it appeared as though there were three of her standing beside me, swaying from side to side.

“I can’t breathe,” I managed to gasp, clutching at her arm desperately. “Mameha-san, I can’t breathe.”

“Here, sit down,” she said as she walked me over to one of the dressing rooms and sat me down on one of the cushions in front of a mirror. My knees were trembling, my chest heaving as I fought for breath. I was convinced that I must be dying, and I closed my eyes and lowered my head as the world spun around me. I could feel Mameha at my side, her hand resting on my shoulder as she ordered the other geisha to find me something to drink.

Then, just as quickly as the spell had come, it vanished, and the pressure on my chest disappeared as well, leaving me free to breathe again. Once I’d caught my breath and calmed myself, I looked over at Mameha, who was still eyeing me with apprehension, as if she expected I would faint at any moment.

“You’re unwell. I’ll get a doctor for you,” she told me as she began to rise to stand, but I shook my head.

“No, I’m all right,” I shook my head, still slightly dazed. She gave me a doubtful look, but I refused to consider it; I still had to take part in a group number, and my absence would be missed. “Really, Mameha-san. I feel fine now.”

Again, she gave me look as if to say she didn’t believe me, but said no more and only nodded, returning to the side of the stage to wait for her cue. After a minute, I changed into my next costume, and danced my number with the other geisha. My every movement was faultless, precise, and as the dances concluded for that night, I threw the odd spell from my mind entirely, thinking nothing of it.

* * *

As the weeks passed, a number of strange things began to happen to me.

I had a sudden, fierce craving for _ichigo daifuku_ – a type of round rice cake filled with sweetened red bean paste and strawberries. I had a voracious appetite for everything, really; so much so that Mother noticed one afternoon at lunch and sneered that Nobu would have no interest in me if I got fat. My whole body ached, and I felt unusually tired, though I assumed it was only because of my rigorous performance schedule. I began to be sick to my stomach in the mornings, and often, soon after waking, I would find myself hurrying over to the toilet to throw up. At first, I thought it was only because I’d eaten bad sashimi the night before, but after it’d been happening for a week without reprieve, I began to suspect that something was amiss.

One morning, just as I stepped out of the toilet after being ill, I found Auntie waiting on the other side of the door with a frown on her face. I’m sure I must’ve looked a mess, because she gave me a worried look and said, “You’ve been ill every morning for a week, Sayuri.”

“I must have the stomach flu, that’s all, Auntie,” I told her, but she didn’t seem convinced.

“When was the last time the clouds passed over the moon for you?”

The mention of ‘clouds passing over the moon’ – a polite euphemism for a woman’s monthly bleeding – made me freeze. I realized all of a sudden that mine hadn’t come for two months; I’d been so busy that I hadn't even noticed. My eyes widened, and my stomach felt heavy, as though I’d swallowed a rock. It seemed like all the air had been squeezed right out of me, and when I met Auntie’s eyes, she gave me a sympathetic look, for both of us knew what this meant.  

I was pregnant.

I had never considered that such a thing might happen to me; I took care to brew tea with special herbs every morning after I spent the night with Nobu to discourage pregnancy. I suppose I’d thought that they could never fail, and I felt like a fool for having so much confidence in them. I had known all along that this could happen, for I’d known any number of geisha who became pregnant by their _danna_ and bore them children _._ It wasn’t an uncommon thing, nor was it frowned upon in Gion, but before it had been nothing more than a distant occurrence, something that happened only to the women I knew but never to me. Many men had illegitimate children by their geisha mistresses, while others had no desire for them at all, like the Baron.

When thoughts of the Baron entered my mind, I knew at once that I must go to Mameha. She had been pregnant at least thrice before with children she’d aborted at the Baron’s request, and I knew no one else I could confide in who would understand. As soon as the hour was appropriate, I left the okiya and set out for her apartment. One of the employees working in the pharmacy below showed me inside, and when I entered, I found Mameha about to brew a pot of tea, as she could no longer afford a maid to do it for her.  

“Good afternoon, Sayuri,” she greeted me with a hint of surprise, as I’d shown up entirely unannounced. “I was just about to have some tea. Would you like to join me?” Quickly, however, she noticed that my eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and walked over to me with a look of concern. “What is it?”

“Oh Mameha-san…” My voice cracked before I could help it. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

She moved closer to me and placed a hand on my arm. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

It took me a moment before I was able to speak, for I was so upset that I couldn’t seem to find my voice. When I finally did, I could only squeak, “I believe that I might be pregnant.”

At once, the concern left her eyes, and it was replaced with a look of grim understanding. She pressed her lips into a line. “Let’s have that tea, then.”

With a nod, I knelt at her little table in silence, waiting as she brought out the tea and set it on the table before me. Once she’d situated herself across from me, she poured the tea, and we sipped it for a time without a word.

“Have you been hungry more often?” she asked me. “Gaining weight?”

Gravely, I nodded. “Yes.”

“Have you been sick to your stomach?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you bled?”

“Two months ago.”

“Then heaven help us, it may be true. I’ll call a doctor; it’s the only way to be certain.”

With a lump forming in my throat, I nodded, and we finished our tea in a tense silence, for I was distraught and Mameha didn’t seem to know just what to say to console me. After we’d finished, she phoned a nearby clinic and asked them to send a doctor to her apartment. He arrived a quarter of an hour later, and requested that I lie down in nothing but my underrobe so he could examine me. When he apologized and began to poke and prod my body, it reminded me very much of the young doctor who had examined me before my _mizuage_ , but I was too distressed to feel very bothered by the touch of his cold hands. After pressing on my stomach for a while, he asked me a number of questions like the ones Mameha had asked before, and once he was finished, he began to collect his things and get to his feet.

“Well, you are certainly pregnant.” Panic ripped through me upon hearing that, and I'm sure I paled. “Only a few months along. Two, if I had to guess. Everything looks as it should.”

I was paralyzed with shock and struggling to hold back my tears, unable to respond or thank him for his troubles. Mameha nodded at the man and handed him his payment. “Thank you, doctor.”

The doctor nodded and left us, but even after he had gone, I remained sitting on the floor, as I didn’t trust my knees to be steady enough to let me stand, and when Mameha knelt beside me, I let the tears fall freely from my eyes at last. I’d never felt so lost and alone, even though I had Mameha beside me, looking at me with empathy.

“You’re afraid,” she observed with a sigh. “I was too, when I found out I was carrying the Baron’s child for the first time.” Appearing as though she were remembering something that had happened long ago, she took my hands. “But you must to go Nobu, Sayuri.”

Nobu. I hadn’t even thought about what Nobu would think, and the idea of telling him only forced more tears out of my eyes. I shook my head. “Mameha-san…”

“Go to him, and ask him what he would have you do. It is his choice to make, not yours.”

“Mameha-san, how cruel!”

She looked terribly sad all of a sudden. “It is cruel, isn’t it?” Mameha exhaled slowly and rose to stand. “But it is the way of our world. You know that.”

I bowed in farewell only a moment later, my heart so burdened that I felt as if it were sinking inside of me, and took my leave of her apartment, my head and my step heavy as I began the journey back to the okiya.

* * *

Since I couldn’t very well request Nobu’s company myself, I was forced to wait until he requested mine to tell him of my condition. Luckily, I only had to wait a few days, but in my state, those few days seemed more like a few centuries. As I went to the little school and entertained, I felt as though I would burst; I had to tell someone and unburden my mind, for I had so many things I wanted to say but no one to say them to. I spent a good deal of time rehearsing what I would say to Nobu in my head, and how I would say it, yet the prospect never seemed any less terrifying – if anything, it only grew more terrifying as the days passed.

I made myself sick with worry lying awake each night, wondering what he would tell me to do. Nobu had no children, nor had he ever shown much of an interest in them; probably he thought them a nuisance, and would have no reason to want an illegitimate child with me. Yet he was nothing like the Baron, and somehow, I couldn’t imagine him asking me to have an abortion either, for he was the most honorable man I’d ever known. Either way, how cruel it seemed: that he should be the one to make the choice at all, while I could do nothing but accept his decision.

At last, he asked me to his estate in Kyoto, and I rode the whole way there with a queasy feeling in my stomach, clad in a blue kimono adorned with a pattern of hummingbirds, and an obi of light green. I felt horribly out of sorts, as though I were living another person’s life. When I arrived, one of his maids showed me inside, where Nobu was waiting in the formal entryway. He looked quite happy to see me, but I could hardly even force myself to smile at him, and immediately, he seemed to sense that something was wrong. My shoulders were tense, my whole body seeming to draw in on itself, and though I knew I should, I couldn’t make myself pretend that nothing was wrong.

“Sayuri,” he said my name hesitantly, looking me over with a frown. “What is it?” I must’ve been terribly pale, because he moved closer to me with concern in his eyes. “Are you unwell?”

“No,” I told him, though in truth I did feel as though I would be sick to my stomach again at any moment. All the rehearsing I’d done in my mind to prepare for this moment had done little to help me, and I found myself floundering for words like a fish pulled from the sea, gasping for air. Though I had felt so close to Nobu in recent months, it felt as if there were a wall between us now, keeping us apart and holding my feelings inside me.

“What is it, then?”

Not seeing much of a reason to dance around the truth, I lowered my eyes and murmured, “I am pregnant.”

As soon as I spoke the words aloud, the confusion was gone from his face, and Nobu looked at me without a word for a long while, appearing as though he wasn’t certain how to react. He didn’t seem angry with me; if anything, he only looked shocked, as if, like me, he’d never considered the idea that something like this could happen. Eventually, as if not knowing what to say, he turned away from me and stepped over to the window, his hand in his pocket as he stood there in silent contemplation. I wanted desperately for him to say something, and when he didn’t, I found the courage to speak up instead.

“I came…” I gulped, my cheeks burning. “I came to ask what Nobu-san would like me to do.”

That was it; I had put the course of my life completely into his hands, for him alone to direct. I was terrified that he was to have such power over me, and I felt very much like a puppet struggling against the hand pulling its strings, trying desperately to free itself.

At last, he turned to look at me, and, after thinking for a minute, told me, “It is your decision, Sayuri. I won’t make it for you.”

I felt so relieved and petrified to hear him say those words that I nearly began to sway on my feet. On unsteady legs, I walked over to him, desperate for comfort, and when he noticed the tears in my eyes, he sighed. “Sayuri…”

Before I could think better of it, I wrapped my arms around him and flung myself into his chest, as though I were drowning and he was my last hope of rescue. The tears I had held back finally escaped, and I pressed my face into his shoulder like a child. I was scared and confused, ashamed of myself for crying in front of him and so upset that I wanted nothing more than to weep for hours. I felt Nobu place his arm around me and exhale slowly, for he seemed as bewildered and unsure as I was. He was as shaken by this news as I had been, and for some strange reason, it consoled me to know that he was clueless too. In that moment, we were like two lost souls who could do nothing but cling together, for the world around us was large and frightening, and the only comfort to be found was in each other’s arms.

“You’re unhappy,” he remarked. With a gulp, I pulled back and met his eyes.

“No,” I breathed. “I’m afraid.”

“I’ve never considered having children,” he said after a moment. “But perhaps… I would like to have a child with you.”

He said no more, and for the longest time, Nobu held me like that in silence, for neither of us knew what to say. Faintly, I could hear the beating of his heart, and for the briefest of seconds, I imagined that somehow I could hear the heartbeat of the child inside me as well; the tiniest sound in the world, and yet more powerful than anything I’d ever heard before.

* * *

Again, I went to Mameha, and when I told her what Nobu had said, she showed surprise.

“You’re very fortunate,” she told me as we sat at her table, letting the tea before us grow cold while we spoke. “I’ve never heard of a man leaving the choice up to his mistress.”

“But I’m so frightened, Mameha-san. I wish…” I stared down into my tea. “I think I wish he had told me what to do.”

“Do you?” Mameha seemed almost irritated to hear me say such a thing. “We geisha have few choices in life. You told me before how cruel it was, but now that he’s given you the choice, you don’t want it?”

I shook my head, hopelessly overwhelmed by the weight of the decision on my shoulders and uncertain how to respond. Mameha’s eyes softened, and I thought that I could see long-forgotten sorrow resurface in them, in the way seashells from the bottom of the ocean become swept up in the tide and wash up again on the shore after many years.

“Let me tell you a story, Sayuri,” she said suddenly. “The first time I became pregnant with the Baron’s child, I went to him at his estate. Like you, I was very afraid; I’d never wanted children, and it was still early in my career. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but in my naiveté, I believed that he would be surprised.” She paused. “He wasn’t. Probably it had happened to him before, and he didn’t think twice before telling me to have an abortion and giving me the name of a doctor in Kyoto. Carrying a child had seemed like such a life-changing thing to me, and he’d made having an abortion seem like nothing more than…I don’t know, squishing a gnat.”

“But I obeyed him, and afterwards I wept – not for the pain, but for the child. I never wanted children, mind you. A pregnant geisha can’t entertain or dance, and that certainly wasn’t what I wanted. I wept because it was a part of me, something so small and innocent… and I’d had no choice but to get rid of it. If I’d made the choice myself, perhaps I could’ve made my peace with it, but I never could.”

I listened intently, for Mameha had never been so open with me before – especially about so private a matter. With a sigh, she continued, “The second time it happened, I went to him again. Foolishly, I expected he might change his mind, but again, he told me to get rid of it. By the third time, I’d grown so numb to it all that I didn’t even shed a tear. But I haven’t forgotten; even now, I still pray before my three little _jizo_ statues, and sometimes, I wonder…”

It was there that she stopped, with the most pained look on her face that I’d ever seen and her lips pressed tightly together. It seemed as though she were picturing something in her mind’s eye, a far-off world in which things had been so very different for her, and even in the silence, I could feel her anguish.

After a time, she looked up at me again and said, “You’ve come to a crossroads in your life, Sayuri. I wasn’t able to choose the direction mine took; I went whichever way I was told to go. But, like water, you can carve your own path.”

Though they shouldn’t have, her words only worried me more. “What should I do?”

“I can’t tell you that. No one can.”

That night, as I lay on my futon and stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, thoughts rushed through my mind like a raging river after a rainstorm, flowing in a thousand different directions at once.

I thought of Mameha, praying alone in a temple before the three little _jizo_ statues that honored the souls of the children she’d aborted. She had neverparticularly wanted children, I knew, as having children would have left her unable to work for long periods of time, but I could sense that a part of her had always wondered what could have been, if in fact she had given birth to the Baron’s children. She was alone now, and growing older; her life was much emptier than it had been before the war, and perhaps it could’ve been filled with the laughter of children, the love of a daughter with Mameha’s beautiful oval face – or a son with her kind eyes. What if the same happened to me? It would be awful, I thought, to get rid of the child and spend the rest of my life wondering about what could’ve been.

Equally as terrifying, however, was the thought of keeping the child. While pregnant, I wouldn’t be able to entertain, or attend the little school, or dance. I would have to disappear from the public eye entirely for a number of months – and even after the baby was born, what on earth would I do? I certainly couldn’t be a mother if I was constantly attending lessons during the day and running from engagement to engagement in the evenings; I would be nothing more than a stranger to the child. I could never play games with them or sing them to sleep or read them stories, as my mother had done with me. I would never know my own child as a mother should, and the thought made my heart ache.

In Gion, there was no stigma behind illegitimate children; in fact, it was considered desirable for a geisha to give birth to a daughter who would then become a geisha herself and succeed her mother as the daughter of the okiya. Yet suddenly, I saw a horrifying series of images flash before me: I saw a little girl with my grey eyes practice dance until her fingers bled, sleep on a _takamakura_ every night until her neck ached, hurry from party to party until she trembled from exhaustion. I saw her auction off her virginity to the highest bidder, and become the mistress of a man she didn’t love. I felt so sickened by it all that I knew at once I couldn’t bear to have any daughter of mine live the kind of life I’d lead.

But if the child was a boy…well, there was no place for boys in our world of women. It sounded cruel – and perhaps it was – but besides the dressers, wig makers, and handful of employees at the registry office, men were outsiders in Gion. They visited the teahouses, flirted with geisha, and drank sake, but when the sun rose, they disappeared with the night. Truthfully, the geisha districts were perhaps the only place in Japan in which the birth of a girl child was preferable to the birth of a boy, and the few male children that were born to geisha lived their early lives like foreigners, in a place they didn’t belong, until they went out into the world, a place for which they’d never been prepared. Sometimes, they were taken away from their mothers and sent away to live with their fathers instead, or to be raised by distant relatives.

To me, every possibility seemed utterly petrifying. There was no right answer, no road that was entirely without its potholes. Having an abortion would be the easiest thing, I supposed, and I could continue on with my life as it had been before, but after I’d seen the pain it had caused Mameha, I realized that I couldn’t do it. Even though my stomach showed no signs of pregnancy, I could still sense the child inside me somehow, and I couldn’t bear to have it ripped out of me so callously and tossed aside, as if it had never existed at all. And above all, Nobu wanted it. He had said he would leave the choice up to me, but I could see that he wanted our child, this tiny part of us that was too small to see, and more important than anything else.

I didn’t know how I would manage, but I made up my mind right then and there, though the future before me seemed so very vast and frightening.

In the morning, I told Mother of my condition and my plan to have the child. Predictably, she was furious, for I would be unable to work for at least half a year and, consequently, useless when it came to making her money. I was almost certain she would’ve killed the baby herself if it meant I would continue to earn at my usual rate, but I refused to be swayed, and eventually, she gave up and spat that I had better pray for a girl, because a boy was of no use to her.

As she walked away, I felt oddly at peace all of a sudden, and the fear that had settled like lead in my stomach dissolved. I realized, in that instant, that I lived for a purpose greater than myself; I carried another life within me, and the idea was just as exciting as it was utterly terrifying.


	6. Chapter 6

I carried on as usual for only two months longer, until my pregnancy started to become noticeable in my fourth month, and after that, I was confined to the okiya, able to do little more than sit around all day and sleep.

After so many years of my busy life as a geisha, perhaps you would have thought that my confinement came as a welcome reprieve, but in reality, nothing could have been farther from the truth. Quickly, I became restless, wishing desperately that I could be out in Gion instead of cooped up inside for hours on end, only catching a glimpse of the sunlight when I ventured out into the courtyard. I was forced to endure seeing Mother far more often, and she never failed to make some scathing remark about my weight, and how I’d never be able to regain my figure after the baby was born. To break up the monotony, Auntie spoke with me often, and Mameha visited frequently as well, always bringing with her some magazines and the latest gossip from around Gion. Even Pumpkin, after hearing of my condition, came to visit. She’d grown more popular in recent months, and I suppose she felt quite pleased to see me forced to sit idly around the okiya everyday gaining weight, while she was out entertaining.

I couldn’t help but envy her, and Mameha as well; I felt like a bird in a cage who could do nothing but watch her sisters fly from tree to tree as they pleased. In the early days of my confinement, sometimes I would peer out of my bedroom window at night just to hear the laughter of geisha and men walking the streets below, and the sound filled me with a deep sense of loneliness that even Mameha’s frequent visits could do nothing to ease.

It was during one of those bouts of horrible loneliness that I felt the child stir inside me for the first time. It was about halfway through my fourth month, a few weeks since I’d stopped entertaining, and my belly had only a slight curve to it, as I had always been thin and slight of stature. It felt as though there was a butterfly inside of me, beating its delicate little wings underneath my skin, and at first, it startled me – yet when I realized what was happening, affection and overwhelming joy swelled within me. It seemed as if the child was reminding me that it was there, that I had no reason to feel so alone, and in that instant, my feelings of isolation faded. Even in the dead of night when there was no one else around, when I felt as though I was the only person in my lonely little world, I was not alone, and the thought brought me great comfort during those long months.

Nobu came as often as his work permitted – which was not, in truth, as often as either of us would like. He’d seemed very pleased when I’d told him of my plans to keep the child, and often sent gifts of jewelry and other things in his absence, though his presents were a poor substitute for his presence, and I missed him often. Since men weren’t allowed past the entryway of an okiya, he invited me to an inn when he came to Gion, where we would do nothing but talk and enjoy the other’s company. Occasionally, we would walk together in Maruyama Park as well, and I treasured those walks more than anything else, as it gave me a chance to escape the stuffiness of the okiya and get a bit of fresh air.

One afternoon in my sixth month, as I was strolling along through the park with my arm looped through Nobu’s, he gave somewhat of a sorrowful sigh and said to me, “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you as often as I should. If I could, I’d come every day – but the fools I work with can’t seem to comprehend the notion that I have a life outside of Iwamura Electric.”

I was particularly tired that day, and could manage only a sleepy smile for him. “I know that Nobu-san visits as often as he can.”

“Well, in your condition, I ought to be with you more often. You’re carrying my child, and I’m off working as if I don’t know that you exist.” He seemed to take notice of my exhaustion all at once, and looked at me closely. “How are you, Sayuri? Really?”

“I’m perfectly all right. Nobu-san has no reason for concern,” I told him, though nothing could be farther from the truth, and when he gave me a doubtful look, I sensed immediately that he had seen right through my lie. I exhaled slowly and allowed my shoulders to slump. “My feet ache – well, everything aches, really. I feel as if I weigh a thousand pounds; Mother tells me all the time I’ll never be able to regain my figure. I sleep often…but I always seem to be so tired.” I stopped once I realized I was rambling and forced a smile for him. “Forgive me, Nobu-san. I’m not being very entertaining today.”

“I don’t come to see you to be entertained. I come to see you because I enjoy your company.” With a scowl, Nobu shook his head. “Still, how frustrating it is! I can’t see you often enough because of my work, and even when I can, I can’t come to that okiya of yours; I have to take you to an inn halfway across the city. I don’t know how you stand living in a place like this. There isn’t a single thing you do that doesn’t have a dozen rules attached to it.”

“Sometimes I do want to run away from it all,” I confessed to him. “But there’s no place else for me to go. I’ve spent nearly my entire life in Gion.”

Nobu looked as though he were pondering something, and for a time we walked along without a word. Then, he peered down at my belly, curving out gently from beneath my yellow silk kimono as it was, and asked all of a sudden, “If the child is a girl, will she become a geisha as well?”

I could see that he looked very displeased with the idea; Nobu disliked geisha, and certainly would hate nothing more than to see his own daughter become one of them. The thought had been crossing my mind frequently as well, yet I didn’t know just what to say to him, and so I lowered my eyes.

“If… Mother wants-“

“I’m not asking what your mother wants! I’m asking you.”

With a frown, I looked over at Nobu and pressed my lips together. “Truthfully, Nobu-san, there is nothing I would like less.”

He seemed quite relieved to hear me say that, and again, we continued our walk in a peaceful silence. After a while, I felt the familiar kicking of the child inside me start up again, and I stopped suddenly, turning to Nobu as an idea came to me.

“The child is moving,” I told him. “Would Nobu-san like to feel?”

At first, he looked taken aback at the suggestion, but nodded a moment later and held out his hand. With a little smile, I took hold of it and placed it on my swollen stomach, in the area where the stirring was at is strongest. For a moment I thought that he wouldn’t be able to feel it, as I was wearing a good deal of layers beneath my kimono, but when his mouth fell slightly agape and a look of astonishment crossed his features, I knew that he had. I’d never seen him so mesmerized, so much like a child in his amazement, and it brought a smile to my lips, the first real one in days. It felt so peculiar, to think that this child had come from the two of us, out of nothing at all; it still seemed so miraculous. I felt a bond between us in that instant than ran deeper than any before it: the bond only a man and a woman who have created a life together can know.

“It is strong,” he remarked after a long while, and I nodded with a grin as he drew his hand away.

“It is.”

Nobu was silent for a moment, and when at last he looked up at me, he looked abruptly serious. “I will take care of the two of you, I swear it.” I opened my mouth to reply, but he continued, his every word heavy with truth. “You are all I need, Sayuri. As long as I have you beside me, for the rest of my life, I will be content.”

“Nobu-san, I never knew you could be so romantic.”

He huffed, as if he didn't like the idea of being thought of as romantic at all. “I wasn’t being romantic. I was being honest.”

“Well,” I laughed as I hooked his arm through mine again and resumed our walk. “Then Nobu-san will never have a reason to be unhappy again, because I will always be at his side.”

* * *

Perhaps some women find pregnancy the most beautiful thing in the world, but during those long months, I found it to be more a perpetual discomfort than anything else. I didn’t feel energized or ecstatic; mostly, I just felt exhausted and hungry, with little to do but sit around and anticipate Nobu and Mameha’s visits. As if that wasn't bad enough, my emotions grew wild and erratic; you could no more predict my moods than you could predict when lightning will strike. Often, I would become impossibly frustrated over nothing, and then find myself weeping only a minute later. I did my best to rein my emotions in around Nobu, but sometimes, I couldn’t help but cry for no reason at all. I could tell it bewildered him, yet he was always understanding, and spoke to me with more respect and kindness than anyone ever had before. I had once believed that a geisha who expected understanding from her _danna_ was like a mouse expecting understanding from a snake, but with Nobu, I came to learn during those months that nothing could be farther from the truth.

One afternoon in October, Mameha came for a visit, as she did at least twice weekly. I was eight months along by then, and it was a struggle to stand and impossible to bow, so large and unwieldy was my belly. Her visits were one of the only things that cheered me, and we met in my bedroom that day, for I’d been ordered to rest by the midwife in the days leading up to the birth.

“I’ve brought you these,” she handed me a stack of Kabuki magazines and knelt next to me on the mats. I placed them on the rather sizable pile I’d accumulated over the months, and she chuckled. “I can see you’ve got quite a few. I’ll have to think of something else to bring.”

“I have enough to last me years,” I told her. “If I read one more, I think I’ll go mad.”

“How are you feeling?” she chirped.

I was so very tired of being asked that question, but I was too exhausted to snap at Mameha, and I sighed, resting my hand absentmindedly on my stomach. “No different than I felt last week. I feel as if I’ll burst at any minute, and sitting around here is so terribly dull. I’m ready to be through with it all.”

“How many weeks left, then?”

“Only three, the midwife says,” I stared down at my belly and frowned, for I found it almost absurd to think that the child would arrive only in a matter of weeks, when I felt as if I’d been carrying it for an eternity. Somehow, it still seemed such a distant, far-away concept, the idea that there was a real living child inside of me, even though the baby made its presence known often with kicks and jabs. Even as I sat there, I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around the idea of becoming a mother, and before I could help it, I felt tears come to my eyes, my fragile emotions triggered without warning.

Mameha knitted her brows together. “Sayuri, what is it?”

“To think that it will be here so soon…” I swallowed. “What will I do? Once I begin entertaining again, I can’t be a mother to a child. I’ll be a stranger to them, and if it’s a girl…” I released a shaky breath. “Mother wants it to be a girl, a successor to the okiya. She’d make her become a geisha too.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I can’t stand the idea, Mameha-san,” I told her. “It's no kind of life for a child. But if it’s a boy…”

Despairing, I drifted off, and Mameha tried to smile to lighten my spirits. “You should be happy, Sayuri. This is a joyous time. In three weeks, you’ll have your baby in your arms at last, and you’ll be able to hold them, and rock them to sleep.” Though the idea of that frightened me as well, I forced a smile for her sake, and she decided to change the subject. “Has Nobu-san been to see you recently?”

“He was here just a few days ago. He comes as often as he can, but I so wish he could come more.” I thought for a moment, and met Mameha’s eyes. “You told me once that I might one day come to care for Nobu-san, do you remember?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “What do you mean?”

“I…” I suddenly felt out of breath – probably because of the weight of the baby pushing down on my insides – and paused for a moment to get enough air to continue. “I believe I have come to care for him. As a man.”

I would not say I loved Nobu just yet, but the type of affection I had for him was deep and enduring, unlike any I’d ever known before, and I cherished the time we spent together more than anything else. I’d thought I had loved the Chairman once, but what I’d believed was love had been mere infatuation, though it pained me to think of it that way. It was something else entirely to care for someone and be cared for in return, to think of someone and know it was likely they were thinking of you as well. I’d never admitted my feelings aloud to anyone before, and it felt odd to do so, especially when Mameha had been the very person to warn me against developing feelings for any _danna_ I might have.

“Then you are very fortunate. Perhaps your destiny will be like Shizue’s after all.”

The mention of Shizue – the geisha whose love for her _danna_ was well known in Gion – brought a smile to my lips, and I thought for a moment there was nothing I would like more than to find quiet contentment in life, as she had. We spoke no more of Nobu or the child after that, and instead, Mameha tried to take my mind off of everything for a little while with gossip she’d heard around Gion. I focused little on her words, however, and found my mind wandering to Nobu, imagining the two of us living happily together with our child in some place far from Gion, with a fine estate and a lovely garden. It was such a beautiful thought that I felt as if I were floating, but when Mameha’s voice drifted into my consciousness as she mentioned something about some geisha or other who had recently gotten a wealthy new _danna_ , my fantasy was shattered.

We would never live as a family, Nobu and our child and I. Geisha had no real families; their only family was the women with which they lived in their okiya. A geisha might have a _danna_ and a child fathered by him, but the three of them would never be a true family – at least not the kind I had grown up with in Yoroido. Though I’d never particularly wanted such a thing before, the thought made me sick in my heart, and I spent the rest of Mameha’s visit in almost complete silence, nodding and forcing myself to smile as she spoke.

* * *

Two weeks later, during the night of November 8th, 1950, I awoke to a feeling of dampness on my futon between my legs and a pang in my belly. In my sleep-addled state, I thought for a moment that I had wet myself, but when I tried to move and felt my stomach seize up inside me like a clenched fist, I realized what was happening.

I called for Auntie, who in turn phoned the midwife and woke the rest of the okiya. The midwife arrived within the hour, and, since it was still common then for women to give birth at home, set about ordering Auntie and our little maid Etsuko to gather supplies. She was an old woman by the name of Mrs. Yamada, with a face like a shriveled-up prune and puckered lips that made her look as if she were always sucking on a lemon. She ordered my futon be placed up against the wall to support my back, and rolled up another futon to place behind me, to keep me in a semi-sitting position. It was rather uncomfortable – but it was nothing compared to the pains that began to worsen as each hour passed.

For many years, I had led a rather pampered lifestyle, with maids at my bidding to do whatever I required. The job of a geisha was nothing like the job of a laborer or farmer; as a result, I’d known very little true physical pain in my lifetime, and had a low tolerance for it. Still, nothing at all could have prepared me for the pain of childbirth, which I endured without medication and in silence. Women in other countries are accustomed to screaming and crying as they deliver their babies nowadays, but back then and even now, we Japanese view such displays of pain as shameful; I was expected to bite my tongue and endure, and so I did. In fact, I bit down on my tongue so hard that Auntie started to worry I might actually bite it off, and brought me a damp rag to place in my mouth instead.

I’d felt the first pains around midnight, and by late afternoon, they were coming hard and fast with little respite between them. Mameha had come to attend the birth, and though she and Auntie murmured soothing words to comfort me, I was in such agony that I could barely hear them. In truth, I wanted to scream so loudly that all of Gion would hear me; it felt as if I were being ripped apart from the inside, and I could do nothing to ease the pain. I yearned for rest, but I could never drift off for very long before the discomfort awakened me, and by early afternoon, I was soaked in sweat and so exhausted I thought that I surely must be dying.

It was a chaotic scene, with Auntie and Mameha at my sides and Mrs. Yamada kneeling between my outspread legs, barking orders at me. Poor little Etsuko, who Mrs. Yamada kept nearby to fetch whatever she needed, stood in the corner, looking pale and terrified. I didn’t know where Mother was, and I didn’t care; probably she was off poring over her accounts and cursing me for causing such a ruckus.

“Has anyone told Nobu-san?” I panted, looking over at Mameha and then to Auntie. Though I knew it wasn’t allowed, I wanted more than anything to have him at my side, speaking words of comfort. But he was away in Tokyo on business, and even though it was only a few hours’ train ride from there to Kyoto, he felt so distant to me in that moment that I couldn’t stop tears from beading in the corners of my eyes.

“Mother phoned Tokyo some time ago. His secretary said he was in a meeting, and couldn’t be disturbed,” Auntie told me, and she must have noticed how much that upset me, because she smiled and patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Probably he’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Well, he won’t be here before the child comes, that’s for certain,” Mrs. Yamada piped up. “This baby is coming, and it’s coming now. Sit up. You’ll need to start pushing soon.”

I couldn’t understand how she possibly expected me to do that, when already I was so fatigued, but I obeyed without complaint and let Mameha dab a wet cloth across my forehead.

“All right, then. Push!”

Grabbing onto both Auntie and Mameha’s hands tightly, I did as she said. The resulting pain crashed over me like waves, pulling me under and leaving me struggling to breathe, but somehow, with a strength I didn’t know I had, I persevered. Perhaps the only thing that got me through it was the thought of being able to rest once it was all over, for in truth, I’d lost all perception of what I was doing, and could only focus clearly on the pain. Finally, with one last heaving push, I felt the room grow suddenly still around me, as if the world itself had stopped turning, and when I heard the gurgling cry of an infant, I released a trembling breath, a sense of overwhelming love and unimaginable fear striking me all at once. I couldn’t see the child, but the sound of its cries seemed to me to be the most beautiful music I’d ever heard, and I fell back as I listened to them, breathing heavily.

When I glanced over at Mameha and Auntie, however, and found them looking back with grave expressions on their faces, my heart jumped into my throat. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Mameha made herself smile and smoothed a strand of sweaty hair away from my forehead. “You’ve given birth to a healthy baby boy.”

A boy – no, it couldn’t be. Nothing worse could have happened! I hadn’t wanted a girl for Mother to make into a geisha, but at least a girl would belong in Gion. There was no place for a boy child here, and Mother wouldn’t want one living with us in the okiya. She’d almost certainly send him away somewhere, to be raised by someone else, and I couldn’t help but heave a sob at the thought.

“No, Mameha, no…” I let the tears fall freely from my eyes at last, and she gave me a sympathetic look, as if she knew just what I was thinking.

Mrs. Yamada took the child away to be cleaned before I’d be allowed to hold him, and as I laid there with Auntie and Mameha struggling to console me, the world around me suddenly began to look as if it were moving much more slowly than normal. Everything was swaying gently from side to side, and I felt inexplicably cold; and all at once, I became aware of a metallic scent in the air, the scent of blood. I wanted to mention it to Mameha, but found that I couldn’t move my mouth to speak, no matter how hard I tried.

After a minute, Mameha took notice as well, and when she peered down at the futon beneath me, she looked horrified by what she saw.

“She’s bleeding,” she said, looking over at Auntie with wide eyes. “She’s bleeding!”

I couldn’t see the blood, but I could certainly smell it, and I began to feel as if I were somehow fading into the wall behind me, my arms and legs growing heavy and cold.

“Mrs. Yamada, come quickly!” Auntie cried. My eyes fell shut before I could stop them, and I heard Mrs. Yamada rush over a moment later and settle herself between my legs once more.

“Call a doctor,” she ordered after a moment. I could hear the barely-concealed panic in her voice. “Hurry.”

“What do you mean? Can’t you stop it?”

“I’ll try my best, but you’d better call a doctor. Quickly!”

“Sayuri!” a voice – probably Mameha’s – exclaimed. I could feel someone shaking me, as if trying to rouse me from sleep, but I was far too weak to fight the tempting hands of darkness that had taken hold of me. “Sayuri, you’ve got to stay awake. Sayuri!”

Her words sounded like a far-away echo, and though I tried, I couldn’t obey. I was fading, losing all feeling in my limbs, and I felt as if I was falling deeper and deeper into the earth. The last thing I heard before darkness overcame me was the distant sound of my baby’s cries, and then, I slipped from consciousness entirely, into a blackness which felt so very warm and inviting.

* * *

Sometime later, I awoke – though I quickly realized that I hadn't awakened in the traditional sense at all. It felt almost as if I were in a dream, but I could sense somehow that I was not, that the things I saw before my eyes were indeed real. I was standing in the entryway of the okiya, watching the world go on around me like a specter; I can only explain it as some kind of out-of-body experience, for no one could see me, and I couldn’t speak a word.

Etsuko knelt in the entryway, as if waiting to receive a visitor, with a grim look on her face and her eyes fixed on the floor. When she heard the bell ring outside, she sprung to her feet to open the gate and bow to the guest. Hardly a second later, Nobu stormed in rather briskly, as disheveled and out of breath as he would’ve been had he run all the way from Tokyo on foot, and hung his fedora by the door, not bothering even to remove his coat.

“Where is she?” he demanded, grabbing hold of Etsuko with a wild look in his eyes. “Where is Sayuri, girl?”

No doubt startled by his scars and gruffness, Etsuko could do nothing but burst into tears, and when Nobu heard the door slide open behind him, he released her and turned, only to find Mameha standing there, her eyes puffy and pink from crying. Her hair was unkempt and her kimono rumpled, and as soon as he saw her, Nobu seemed to sense that something was wrong.

“Mameha,” he said breathlessly, eyeing her with trepidation. “What’s happened?”

Mameha didn’t say anything at first, as though she were trying to gather her composure, and when she finally did, her voice was strained. “The baby was born a few hours ago. Nobu-san will be glad to know that it is a healthy boy. But, Sayuri…”

The door behind Mameha slid open suddenly, and out stepped Auntie, carrying a bundle of bloody sheets in her arms. She had a solemn look on her face as well, and when Nobu saw the blood, he looked as if he wanted to be sick.

“She started to bleed badly, after the child was born,” Mameha went on. “The midwife tried to stop it, but she couldn’t, and we had to call a doctor instead. By the time the doctor arrived, she’d lost so much blood that there was little he could do. He said…” Fresh tears came to her eyes, and she glanced at Nobu with a look of great anguish. “He said she may only have a few hours left with us, and that we ought to say our goodbyes now.”

Nobu appeared as though he were struggling to understand it all, overwhelmed by shock and sorrow, for certainly this was not what he’d expected to find here upon arriving. His eyes were wide and his shoulders slumped, and he looked so much smaller, like a little boy.

“She should’ve been taken to a hospital,” he growled.

“She was bleeding too much to move her.” For a moment, Nobu and Mameha stood there in silence, with a grave heaviness in the air between them. Then, she looked up and sighed, her eyes heavy with tears once more. “I’m so sorry, Nobu-san.”

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Upstairs,” she answered. “I’ll take you to her.”

Though it was almost an unheard of breach of etiquette for a man to venture beyond the entryway of an okiya, neither Mameha nor Nobu paid any mind to the fact as they ascended the stairs and slid open the door to my bedroom. I could do nothing but watch as they entered the room, which was permeated by the lingering scent of blood and a grim atmosphere of death. Again, Nobu appeared as though he would be ill, and he exhaled slowly as they approached the futon upon which I lay.

It felt strange to see myself in the eyes of another person. The first thing that struck me was how pale I had become; I was nearly as white as the sheets beneath me, and I looked as fragile as a child lying there, my eyes closed peacefully. My dark hair lay loose and messy around my shoulders, and my hands were folded on my chest, like a corpse. I began to fear that I was indeed dead, and that I had become a ghost returning to haunt the land of the living, but when I drew closer and saw my chest rising and falling weakly beneath the blankets, I knew it was not so.

With a look of horror, Nobu fell to his knees beside me, and Mameha knelt next to him with her eyes lowered, as if she couldn’t bear to see me in such a state. For the longest moment, Nobu looked at me, too stunned to move, but eventually, he reached over and took one of my hands, clutching it as though he believed that, if he held on tightly enough, he could keep me from slipping away. Abruptly, I remembered something he’d told me that day we’d walked in the park together, about how I was all he needed, and as long as he had me for the rest of his life, he would be content. Saddened by the thought, I longed to reach out to him, yet I could do nothing but watch him as he knelt there, staring at me with the most forlorn look I’d ever seen him wear. Nobu had never been the kind of man to shed tears, but now, when I was to be so cruelly taken from this life, I could see his eyes glistening faintly with unshed sorrow.

“I’ve killed her, Mameha,” he remarked after a long moment.

“Oh, Nobu-san…”

“I should’ve told her to have an abortion. That’s what any other _danna_ would’ve done, isn’t it? But I was selfish. I wanted a child with her.” He clenched his jaw in anger. “And now look what’s happened. The most beautiful woman in Gion, dead. Because of a beast like me.”

“Nobu-san, you mustn’t say that.”

“It isn’t right. I should’ve been the one to die first; I’m nearly an old man. She is so young.” He sighed, speaking steadily but somberly. “I’d thought we would have more time.”

It was true; we’d had so short a time together, barely more than a year, and it was only in recent months that I’d realized how much I cared for him. And Nobu had loved me all along, before the war when I’d cast him aside and taken the General as my _danna_ instead, during the war when we hadn’t been certain if we would live to see one another again. So many years he had waited, and now, it would all be for nothing.

“She cared for you,” Mameha told him quietly. “She told me, only a few weeks ago, how much she’d come to care for you.”

He scowled. “It would’ve been better for her if she hadn’t. If I’d known this was going to happen, I never would have laid a hand on her.”

“Please, Nobu-san, don’t say such things. You couldn’t have known.”

Nobu didn’t seem to have heard her, nor did he look as though he knew she was even there at all. Gently, as if I were a porcelain doll that he might break, he brought my hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it, in a show of tenderness I’d never seen from him before. For the longest moment, he looked at my pale little hand with a sort of detachment, lost in thought. Perhaps he was remembering our first meeting at that sumo match so long ago, or the night he’d given me that comb in front of everyone at the party. Maybe he was thinking of our last meeting before the war in that little room at the Ichiriki, or the night in Osaka when we’d first made love… So many memories, over so many years, and for what? None of it mattered now, as I lay there barely clinging to life; it seemed nothing more than a collection of wasted moments, a story that would ultimately end in tragedy.

“She is the only ray of light in my dark world,” he said sadly. “I don’t know how I can live without her, Mameha.”

Mameha opened her mouth to speak, but a tear fell from her eye before she could, and she closed it swiftly. Once she’d composed herself, she asked, “Would Nobu-san like to see his son?”

Nobu’s response was quick and cold. “No. I will not leave her side.”

Mameha nodded and rose to stand, leaving him there to kneel beside me in silence, his hand holding mine firmly. As she walked away, I realized something that petrified me: if I did not live, Nobu would never be able to love our son properly. Though it wasn’t the child's fault, part of Nobu would always blame him for my death anyways, and perhaps he’d even grow to despise him for it. The idea was terrifying, and it filled me a sadness that left me feeling hollow on the inside, as if all my hope and optimism about the future had been scooped out of me and tossed away.

All at once, I felt myself fading again, but this time, there was a peculiar brightness surrounding me instead of darkness. I was in a room without walls that seemed to stretch on forever, and all around me, everything was blindingly white. Before me, I saw a shimmering light that beckoned me to come towards it, and so I did, awed by its brilliant beauty. I didn’t know where I was going, or where the light would take me, but it felt so warm and tempting that I couldn’t stop myself.

Suddenly, I found myself compelled to stop, and when I did, I found my mother and father standing before me. I knew at once that this must certainly be the afterlife, for my mother looked nothing like she had at the time of her death; she was healthy and resplendent, as she had been before the illness that had ravaged her body. My father looked younger as well, without the air of sadness that had always hung over him like a raincloud back in Yoroido. They seemed as though they were walking into the light as well, but when I tried to run and follow them, I found that I couldn’t move.

“Mother! Father!” I called. “Let me come with you, please!”

“No, Chiyo,” my mother smiled. “It is not your time yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve not yet fulfilled your destiny, Chiyo-chan,” my father said.

“My destiny? What is my destiny?”

“Your destiny,” my mother told me with a sad little smile, “will be what mine was. Water and wood.”

At once, as I looked at the two of them, my mother with the grey eyes she’d given me and my father with his dark ones, I understood. My mother was water, and my father was wood.

I was water, and Nobu was wood.

I felt myself being pulled away from the light, back into the darkness, and all the while, I repeated my mother’s words to me again and again. Water and wood. My fate, the fate I’d sought so desperately to find for so many years, was water and wood. All along, though at times I’d wanted to escape it, Nobu had been my ultimate destiny. Every step I’d ever taken had brought me to him, and all the roads down which I’d turned had the same destination, no matter how winding and lengthy they had seemed.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I found that I was lying on my futon still, with Nobu kneeling at my side, holding my hand in his and bowing his head. I thought for a moment that perhaps he was praying, and when I tried to sit up, I found that I was too weak to move; I could barely even lift my head.

“Nobu-san…” I whispered, for I could hardly manage to speak either.

Immediately, he looked up, and when he did, he looked as if he could scarcely believe the sight before him. His eyes were red-rimmed, with bags underneath them, and it appeared as if he hadn’t slept in days. I wondered for a moment how long he had been there beside me.

“Sayuri,” he said. “Thank heavens.”

With trembling fingers, he placed a kiss on my hand, and I managed a smile, touched by the gesture and the look of exhausted adoration he wore. In truth, Nobu looked terrible, with messy hair and deep lines on his face that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him; the notion of my death had shaken him to the very core, and now that I was awake, he looked almost as if he believed he were dreaming.

“They told me you were going to die.”

“It was only blood. I’ve got plenty more,” I made a half-hearted attempt at joking with him. “But, Nobu-san is… here, in the okiya-“

“Yes, I know. I shouldn’t be, and that mother of yours hasn’t let me forget it. She’s been screaming at me to get out every time she sees me.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I was sure I was going to lose you.”

Though it was difficult, I found the strength to lift my hand and place it on his cheek. “Oh, Nobu-san…”

For a while, we stayed like that without saying a word, for I was too weak, and Nobu didn’t seem to feel the need to speak; the fact that I was awake appeared to be enough for him.

Suddenly, I remembered something. “Where is the baby?”

“In another room,” he answered. “I haven’t seen him. I’ll find one of the maids.”

I nodded, and he got to his feet, disappearing for a moment and returning with Auntie in tow. In her arms, she carried a little white bundle, and I felt a lump gather in my throat when I saw it. I tried to sit up but failed, my body so fragile and shaky that I could do nothing but lie there as she knelt next to me and passed the baby carefully into my arms.

When I saw our son for the first time, my breath caught in my throat, and I could only stare at his chubby little face with fascination as he dozed. He had a dusting of dark hair on his head, and each one of his hands was so small that I could hold them between my fingers. In fact, his entire body was so tiny that he fit perfectly into the crook of my arm, resting against my chest; he was the lightest little thing, and yet he felt so very heavy, his existence so powerful. Having been roused by the transition into my arms, his eyes opened all of a sudden, revealing irises that were the same blue-grey color as mine. When I saw them, I felt such sudden and unconditional love overcome me that tears came to my eyes. I’d fallen in love with him in less than a minute, knowing that this was the child of my body that I’d carried inside me for so long. It was a sort of love I’d never known before, and will never know again.

“Look at him, Nobu-san,” I murmured. “He’s so beautiful.”

When I glanced in Nobu’s direction and saw him watching the child with a sort of timid curiosity, I gestured for Auntie to pass our son to him. She did so with some difficulty, as he had quite a bit of trouble getting a steady hold on the infant with only one arm, but once he had, Nobu stared at the baby with his mouth slightly agape, as captivated by the sight as I had been.

“He is a gift,” he said after a moment, looking over at me. “Thank you.”

I smiled, but as I watched the two of them stare at each other in astonishment, I was troubled again by the thought of how out of place they both were. Nobu shouldn’t be here in the okiya – and perhaps neither should our son. Gion was no place for a boy, and I found myself wondering once more about what Mother would do with him, if she would send him away where I’d never be able to see him. It all seemed so unfair – to be limited in this way, by the strict customs of Gion I’d endured for so long. As if plagued by those very same thoughts, Nobu looked over at me knowingly.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he peered down at the child. “There’s no place for a boy in your world of women, is there?” Grimly, I shook my head, and he pressed his lips into a line, as if in contemplation. “When you’re well again, Sayuri, there is something I must ask you.”

I was too exhausted to ask what it was, and I could only nod in response as my eyes began to close, my body yearning for slumber. Nobu noticed and rose to stand, bidding me farewell and leaving me to rest.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this fic, and I’d like to thank everyone for reading! I have a number of ideas in the works for Nobu/Sayuri, so keep an eye out for more from me in the near future. Thank you again, and enjoy.

In a naming ceremony seven days later in front of the little altar in our okiya, our son was given the name Minoru, after my father. Nobu was insistent that he take his family name as well, and so on that day, he became known to the world as Nobu Minoru, the acknowledged son of Nobu Toshikazu.

It was a short little ceremony, and Nobu attended though Mother upbraided him for so blatantly disregarding the rules of an okiya. I was still very weak, but I took part nonetheless, and returned to bed shortly afterward. My recovery was long and taxing; in so short a time, I seemed to have lost all the strength in my body, and at first it was a struggle even to walk a few steps outside to the courtyard. I spent nearly two weeks doing little more than sleeping, and Nobu paid for the best doctors in Kyoto to keep a close eye on me. As the weeks passed, however, I grew stronger, and two months after Minoru’s birth, Nobu asked me to his estate, informing me that there was something he wished to speak to me about.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time wondering what it was that he wanted to ask me, and most of the time, I was too tired even to think about it. Though I still didn’t feel well, I rode to his estate in a car he’d sent, dressed in a persimmon-colored kimono with the branches of embroidered golden trees stretching down the back of it and extending out onto the sleeves. The obi was pale pink satin damask, patterned with a design of leaves swirling in the wind. Certainly I looked stunning – if not a little pale – but in my weakened state, I felt the weight of the kimono on my body as I’d never felt it before. It seemed to make my shoulders sink down under its many layers, and when I stood, I felt terribly unsteady, as if I were wearing the full, cumbersome ensemble of an apprentice geisha for the first time.

Though the air was chilly, we took a walk on the grounds of his estate once I arrived, and I had to hook my arm through Nobu’s to steady myself as we strolled. All the while, he eyed me with caution, as though watching to see if I might faint.

“You don’t look well at all, Sayuri. Perhaps I should’ve waited to ask you here,” he told me, but I shook my head.

“I’m only a little tired,” I said. “Besides, whatever Nobu-san needs to talk to me about must be very important, if he’s had me come all the way to his estate.”

He didn’t answer me for a time, appearing as if he had so much to say that he didn’t know where to begin.

“I’ve been thinking about something for a while,” he finally remarked. “Our son is illegitimate – maybe not in our eyes, but in the eyes of the world, and as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re only my mistress. Now, most of the time, I couldn’t care less what others think, but this is different. I won’t have anyone looking down on our son, for any reason, and I’m not content to have you as only my mistress for the rest of my life. I don't want to have to hide the two of you away like I'm ashamed of you.”

I had a sneaking suspicion what he meant by that, but I shook my head and said, “I don’t understand.”

“What I’m trying to say is…” he trailed off and frowned. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped walking, released my arm, and looked me square in the eyes. “Marry me, Sayuri.”

When his words met my ears, I felt as if I’d been slapped, and the world around me started to grow blurry. The carefully cultivated mask of emotion I’d hidden behind for so many years slipped, and my eyes showed my surprise as plainly as the sun shone in the sky above us.

To be a wife! The idea was ludicrous, for the fact that geisha never marry had been ingrained in me ever since I was an apprentice. There are, in truth, no two things more different in Japan than a wife and a geisha. Where a geisha is witty and engaging, a wife is serious and solemn. A geisha socializes with many men, while a wife associates little with her husband’s co-workers or friends. A geisha spends her days dancing and entertaining, and a wife spends them caring for the house and the children.  In all honesty, I’d always viewed the role of a wife as rather dull and constricting, and now that I was nearing thirty, I had given up on the idea of marriage altogether.

However, it couldn’t be denied that a wife had a certain respectability that a geisha could never have; she was lawfully married, while a geisha could only ever be a man’s mistress with a scandal attached to her name. A man could certainly be in love with his geisha mistress and not with his wife, but she would only ever be talked about in whispers, and his wife would be the one truly at his side in the eyes of the world.  

Not knowing what to say, I blurted out, “But, I could never leave the okiya-“

“Do you want to pour sake for drunk fools in teahouses until you’re old and grey? Run an okiya like that mother of yours?” he scoffed at the idea. “Is that really how you intend to spend the rest of your life, Sayuri?”

I had a sudden, terrifying vision of myself twenty years from now as the mistress of the Nitta okiya, sitting all alone hunched over an abacus in the darkness, old and bitter – just like Mother.

“I…I’ve never thought much about the future,” I admitted.

“Then think about it now! I can take you away from all of that: the teahouses, those men, that okiya. For heaven’s sake, I would take proper care of you.”

“Mother would never let me go. I’m the only earner in our okiya.”

“I’ll pay her off. I don’t care how much money it takes, I’ll get you away from that place if it kills me.” Nobu stopped when he noticed how dazed I looked, and sighed, lowering his voice. “Marry me. Our son would be legitimate, and you would be my wife. There is nothing I’d like more.”

Shivering, I turned my back to him. “Please, Nobu-san, if you are doing this only because of Minoru-“

“Of course not,” he interrupted me. “I should’ve married you years ago during the war, instead of sending you away to slave in Arashino’s workshop. I should’ve married you from the start, instead of dealing with all this foolish business of being your _danna_. Can’t you see? I don’t want only part of you! I’ve never wanted only part of you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I gulped, feeling faint.

“Say yes,” he urged. “I love you, Sayuri. Perhaps I haven’t said that to you often enough – but you know I’m not the kind of man to go around spouting frilly declarations of love. Certainly I’m not the man you pictured yourself marrying; you’re the most beautiful woman in Gion, and they call me the one-armed lizard. But I love you, and I would be a true husband to you.”

I was too stunned to answer him, and I began to feel as if everything around me was simultaneously floating into the sky and sinking down into the ground all at once. To be a wife, Nobu’s wife… It would be so very different from the life I’d led in Gion, flitting from party to party every night. I would be plucked out of the scandalous world of geisha and placed into the honorable role of a wife, something that sounded ridiculously foreign to me. But would I really want to live out the rest of my life in Gion instead, pouring sake for men in teahouses, like Nobu had said? For some reason, I couldn’t see myself as a geisha twenty years from now, but could I see myself as a wife?

After I hadn’t said anything for a while, Nobu sighed. “I’m not a romantic man, and I am not very good with words. I don’t know what to say to convince you.” Still, I was unable to open my mouth or even turn to look at him, and when he began to suspect that he wouldn’t get an answer from me, he said, “I’ve sprung this on you too suddenly, I suppose. Well, I'll give you time to think.”

Just as he began to walk away, however, I turned all at once and said, “Yes.”

It stopped Nobu in his tracks, and he turned back to look at me with a frown. “What?”

“Yes,” I managed to say, almost dizzy with emotion. “I will marry you.”

As if in a trance, he made his way back over to me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at first, but when I drew closer to him and placed a hand on his cheek, I could see the happiness shining in his eyes. As we stood there in silence, a feeling of love swelled inside my chest and seemed to stretch its warmth all the way throughout my body, from my head to my toes. I felt very much like it feels to step in front of the warmth of a fire for the first time, after being outside for hours in the cold. For not only was Nobu my _danna_ and my lover, but my greatest friend, my companion and confidant – and now, I was to be his wife. The idea had frightened me before, yet now, there wasn’t a trace of fear or doubt within me. Gently, he pressed his lips down upon mine, and when he did, for the first time, I felt a deep sense of belonging, as if I’d found exactly the right place for me in the world, the little corner in which I was meant to live out my life.

* * *

The next day, I informed Mother of our intention to marry. I’d never seen her so furious, for I was the only earner left in our okiya, and without me, she’d either have to take on another geisha or wait for Etsuko to come of age for her debut. Predictably, the prospect of such a massive loss of income upset her greatly.

“This man!” she said of Nobu. “First he gives you a son who’s useless to me, and now he wants to marry you? For goodness’s sake, I couldn’t have chosen a worse patron!”

However, when she and Nobu began making arrangements for me to leave the okiya, and he offered to pay her a rather exorbitant stipend every month if she would allow me to retire, her protests quickly ceased. Reluctantly, she resolved to find another geisha to take my place, and she was so desperate to find someone who could make her money that I believe she even sought out Pumpkin.

A few months later, in the spring of 1951, Nobu and I drank sake together in a ceremony at the Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto.

It was a ceremony I had experienced what seemed to be a dozen times before – first with Mameha, then with the Doctor and the General, and with Nobu for the first time when he became my _danna_ – and it was the same ceremony that bound the two of us together as husband and wife. Since the drinking of sake had tied me to so many others in my lifetime, it was only fitting that it should tie me forever to Nobu as well.

I wore the traditional whitekimono of a Japanese bride, with a _tsunokakushi_ , a rather bulky headdress symbolically worn to cover a woman’s horns of jealousy. For the last time, I painted my face white to represent my purity and virginity, though I suppose it was common knowledge that I no longer possessed the latter. Nobu wore the customary ensemble of a groom: a black kimono embroidered with his family crest that I could tell he felt quite ridiculous in.

Mother, Auntie, and Mameha were in attendance, and since Nobu had no living family members, the Chairman attended on his request, for he was the closest thing to a brother Nobu had. It felt so odd to see the Chairman and feel nothing at all towards him, but I suppose by then my feelings towards him had become nothing more than an unattended fire, which in time grows smaller and weaker without kindling added to it, before finally disappearing altogether into a pile of ash. The ash always remains, for it can never be entirely forgotten, but the flame is gone, and eventually, it becomes nothing more than a distant memory of a warmth that existed long ago.

As I stood in front of the shrine and wed Nobu that day, I realized as well that what the two of us shared was far greater than anything I ever could have had with the Chairman. He certainly could have become my _danna_ if the hand of fate had steered me in a different direction, but he was already married with children nearly my age, and I would have been little more than a secret for him to hide away somewhere, a woman with which he would spend his nights before returning to his wife in the mornings. I could have been his, but he never could have been mine anywhere except behind closed doors. Now, however, I belonged to Nobu, and he belonged entirely to me; I had all of him, while I never could’ve had more than a part of the Chairman.

The next day, I left the okiya, having relinquished the family name of Nitta and taken Nobu’s instead. Mother seemed devastated to see me go, though not because she genuinely cared for me but because it must’ve looked to her like nothing more than money walking out the door. I couldn’t say I would miss her, but Auntie and I shared a tearful goodbye, for, out of everyone else in the okiya, she’d always been the kindest to me, and the one to whom I spoke most often. Mameha came to see me off as well, and I cried as we bid farewell, promising that I would return to visit often.

As I stepped past the doorway of the okiya for the last time with Minoru in my arms, I felt very much like I had felt upon entering it for the first time as a child so many years ago. Once more, I was closing a chapter of my life and venturing into the unknown; Gion no longer felt much like a home to me, and everyone there – Mother, Auntie, Pumpkin, even Mameha – suddenly seemed somewhat distant, as inhabitants of a world I had left behind. I would miss dancing, and to an extent entertaining, but in that instant, as I felt the weight of my little son in my arms, I realized that it was as if all that I’d given up had been replaced with something far more fulfilling, like a glass of water poured out and refilled with wine instead.    

* * *

I suppose the story of my life can be neatly divided into three chapters, and in each one, I was known to the world by a different name. First I was Sakamoto Chiyo, the fisherman’s daughter living in a tipsy house in Yoroido. Then, I was Nitta Sayuri, daughter of the Nitta okiya and geisha of Gion; and when I married, I became Nobu Sayuri, wife of Nobu Toshikazu and mother of Minoru.

Married life felt strange to me at first, but as the years passed and I lived in golden contentment with Nobu, I found it to be more pleasant than any life I could’ve lead in Gion. We had no more children, for, after what had happened when Minoru was born, Nobu refused to risk my life for another child. Still, I watched our son become a fine young man, and as he grew older, I came to learn that what had happened with my parents and Satsu and I hadn’t occurred at all with Minoru. With all the water and wood in my parents’ personalities, my sister and I should have had a perfect balance of the elements, but she’d ended up with too much wood and I with too much water. In time, I came to learn that Minoru had indeed received this balance, and consequently, had mine and Nobu’s best qualities.

He was loyal and trustworthy, and a hard worker with a good mind for business, like this father. Yet where Nobu had always been so rigid, Minoru had inherited my adaptability, and he was far more even-tempered as well. When he turned nineteen, he began working at Iwamura Electric for the Chairman. Nobu, who had retired a few years prior, taught him everything he knew, and in time, the Chairman grew to rely on Minoru almost as he’d relied on his father, for he was growing older and pondering the inheritance of his company.

Three years later, when Minoru was twenty-two, we received word that the Chairman was ill, yet I had no idea just how ill he was until Nobu returned home late one night with a weary look on his face and sorrow in his eyes. Many years had passed, and he was growing older as well, but still remained in good health. He was the most stubborn person I’d ever met, and refused to let age get the better of him.

“The Chairman is dying,” he told me with a frown as he stepped inside the door and removed his coat.

I went to his side, and placed a tender hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

The notion of the Chairman’s death saddened me immensely, as he’d been a great friend to the two of us for decades, and one of the kindest men I knew. I won’t deny that there were times when I wondered what would have happened if he had become my _danna_ instead, but I no longer harbored anything more than a feeling of friendship towards him, and to think of him languishing in his deathbed caused me great pain.

“We discussed the inheritance of the company,” he said. “Originally he’d planned to marry one of his daughters and adopt her husband into the family, but he decided against it. He told me that instead he’s come to realize how brilliant Minoru is, and how suited he would be to running a company.”

I blinked in surprise. “Surely you don’t mean…”

“He said that we’d built Iwamura Electric together, and that it is as much my company as it is his. And he told me that since he has no son of his own… he intends to pass it on to our son instead.”

All at once, I was stunned, saddened, and overjoyed. The idea worried me, for Minoru was still so young with much to learn, yet even then I knew how suited he would be to the job, and I hadn’t a doubt in my mind that he could do it.

After the Chairman’s death a few weeks later, our son became chairman of Iwamura Electric in his place, and Nobu watched with pride shining in his eyes, as though he were looking into the past and seeing himself as a young man again.

* * *

As the years passed and we grew older together, Nobu became frailer, and my beauty faded, yet we lived in perfect happiness even so. Someone told me once that the most enduring kind of love is rooted in friendship, and I’m convinced that no truer words have ever been spoken, for the love we shared never faded nor faltered; if anything, it grew stronger over the years, in the way a peach becomes sweeter as time passes.

Because Nobu was much older than I was, I’d accepted long ago that there would come a time when we would have to part. The death of the Chairman had taken its toll on him, for it’d reminded Nobu of his own mortality, and the fact that he himself would not remain in this world much longer. Eight years after Minoru took charge of Iwamura Electric, he began to grow ill in his old age, and I was forced to ponder how on earth I could continue on after he left me, as he’d been by my side for so long that I could hardly remember anything else. However, when he passed not more than a few months later, I felt little sorrow, for I had seen eternity long ago, and I was certain that we would meet again, wherever our souls wandered after death. He lives on still in my memories, and in our son, of whom he was so proud; there are times when I look at Minoru and see so much of Nobu in him that for an instant I almost believe he is standing before me still. He feels as real to me as if he were sitting beside me now, and though he is dead, he is not truly gone, for the love we shared ventures even beyond the grave.

Perhaps it can be said that our love was like a flower, blossoming gradually before opening up to show the world its true beauty in the springtime. Or perhaps it can be said that our love was like a house, built slowly brick by brick until it stood taller and stronger than all those around it. Or perhaps our love was more like a tree, growing from a tiny sapling into a plant with roots so deep in the ground that they could draw water from the deepest depths of the earth. It was not born from passion, though passion came in time; we built it from friendship, and the deep bond of fate we shared. It was not the kind of love that kindles rapidly like a wildfire, but the kind that matures slowly, and endures.

Now that I am growing older myself and watching those I knew depart this life, I realize that one day it will come time for me to pass as well, yet in truth, I am not afraid. I have lived so many lives, seen so many things, done all there is to do. I have been a daughter, a sister, a geisha, a mother, a wife; I have loved many and many have loved me, and I know now that there is nothing more we can hope for in this life, than to love and be loved in return.


End file.
